Upcoming Story Ideas
by RaiderWolf
Summary: Some of the story ideas I've had on my brain and would like to get out there. I had one of these stolen, and I didn't get any money off it. Crying shame too, Heroes made a lot of money.
1. Chapter 1

Hey everyone. Raider Wolf here, and I'm going to admit that I have a case of ADD, or ADHD. One of the two.

Anyway, so I been wanting to publish a few ideas, get some feedback. To that end, I decided to upload some of my stories here. Mostly the Prologue and first chapter or two. Chapter name will be the story, any numbers after will be chapter in that story. These will be ideas, and I might upload an extra chapter later if I get inspired, and get me inspired enough I'll upload the story proper and begin working on it more.

So, what does it take to get me to work more on a story? Review it. Simple, just write me a simple review on the chapter you like or don't like, and you can expect a response, usually within a day, sometimes within thirty minutes.

Sounds easy? It is! And ideas? Some of them I've had for sixteen years or better. Finding Fanfiction was the best thing ever. Now, which story is first? Well, hit Next and find out!


	2. Once Upon A Time - Seduction of Power 01

Author's Note: Oh how I hated that they made Swan the Dark One. This fic intends to correct that, by introducing an OC to take the place of Swan. My intention is to carry this story on, through the rest of the fourth and fifth seasons. Not going to be in Storybrooke, primarily, but in the Enchanted Forest where Swan winds up. Hope you enjoy this, because I am loving it. Here's 2 full chapters, and one partial.

Once Upon A Time – AU

Seduction of Power

Dante Sellers

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Chapter 1 – Fool's Mistake

Amidst a forest of green, was a seal of gold on top of a set of broken bricks. It started to move, dropping the center circle several inches to reveal slots inset into the rim. From these slots a liquid like oil poured into the depression and roiled as if boiling, but there wasn't any steam rising from it. When the substance ceased to pour into the depression, the center began to rise, at first as if a great boil were forming, but it grew as tall as a man, and began to take on the outline of one, before falling away to reveal a six foot, broad shouldered man dressed in a black cloak. The man glanced around, quickly, then raised his hands, removing the hood on the cloak to reveal his face. He had dark brown hair, with hazel eyes. His face was clean shaven, with long side burns.

Dante Sellers glanced around his surroundings, before stepping forward to sit at the edge of the platform. He had no idea where he was. He thought about the last thing he could remember. He had been walking along Main street, more or less mourning the fact that he was alone again for his birthday. While it was a special day for him, he never made it known exactly when it was. No one in town had ever asked him for the date, or thrown a party for him.

They didn't hate him. His daily routine usually saw him up and walking about five in the morning. He'd go for a walk first, usually seeing his friend Ruby. He'd try to keep with her, lasting all of ten seconds at full sprint before the petite woman outran him. He'd tried day after day to keep up, but the werewolf had speed and stamina he couldn't match.

After getting home, he'd shower, shave and head into town for breakfast. Even though Ruby ran far longer and further, she'd be waiting tables in one of her infamous outfits, usually to Granny's and the other diner's dismay. He'd eat, read some news on his phone, then head out. Being a multimillionaire had one perk. It meant he had access to money without having to work. That's how he came to live in Storybrooke. After he won the lottery when he was twenty-seven, he threw a dart at a map, hoping for the northern Midwest. His aim was as bad as ever, and he ended up in Maine.

Those first few weeks were the weirdest. Everyone trying to act normal while calmly explaining away everything. That ended when Tiny came through town. Having personally seen the giant on a rampage, the locals accepted him and told him the truth. That they were from what he would term a "fairy tale world."

He had accepted that, and began to learn who everyone was. Knowing they were from a different world wasn't difficult to accept after seeing a rampaging giant. It was actually simpler for him. He liked these people. Simple, honest, caring. He just had to learn to stay out of Regina's way, and not make deals with Mr. Gold, as those were the two main magic users in town. And also the most evil.

Life was simple after that, and he was able get into his routine. After breakfast, he'd wander the town. After the library opened, he'd taken to checking out books to read, making friends with Belle who ran it. She was also into reading, and did her best to keep the books in order, but as she explained to him, the books just appeared and disappeared at will here.

After checking out a book, he'd find a quiet place to read, settle down and let his natural ability take over. Only a book over five hundred pages would require him to take it home, otherwise he'd drop it in the return box as he returned to Granny's for dinner. After dinner, he'd head to the bar where he'd have a drink, then head home.

That was his life, and he enjoyed it. But on his birthday, every eighteenth of June, he'd forgo the beer and walk around feeling sorry for his lot in life. That night though, he saw Regina being attacked by some kind of dark energy. He saw the "heroes" try to save her by plunging a knife into it when a bright flash of light knocked them all back.

He'd been close enough to see the knife land near him, and he didn't hesitate. Regina might have started out being evil to the heroes, but she was trying to be a better person. So he grabbed the knife and plunged it into the darkness attacking her.

And now he was here. Minus the dagger. Well, it was probably enchanted just for that one attack anyway, or had been destroyed. He waited mainly because he knew the heroes would come for him. He'd listened to enough of their tales in the bar at night, or at granny's in the morning. They'd always come for the missing friend. So he'd wait.

"They aren't coming, dearie."

He looked up to see Mr. Gold standing there, covered in gold flakes on his skin. He was also dressed in a red leather vest with a black shirt and not his usual fancy suit.

"Mr. Gold?"

"Not quite, but I understand the confusion. I'm the voice in your head. The Dark Ones powers inside you, inside all the Dark Ones. Rumpelstiltskin was one of many," he said. "Perhaps you'd like it if I were Gorgon the Invincible?"

He morphed into a giant warthog, and breathed a gout of flame over his head forcing Dante to duck. When Dante raised his head, the man was back to looking like Rumpelstiltskin.

"Yes, it will be easier this way."

"OK, Pumbaa," Dante said, easing himself back down. "So what are you here for, anyway?"

"To teach you to be a Dark One, of course," he said. "Think of me as your guide. But only till you learned to embrace your darkness and master your power."

"Power? My strength?"

"Magic."

That made Dante laugh. "I come from a land with no magic. And you think I have some?"

"Know you do," He said, smiling. "Prove it to you. You can use this to go where you need to be, like if someone summons you by saying your name three times."

Dante closed his eyes, leaning forward slightly to put his weight on his toes. Who knew what this figment of his imagination was going to do. "Picture a mirrored lake, a tall tree with long hanging branches that loom over it. Above it, A beautiful blue sky. Picture it very clearly in your mind."

Dante did as asked, then gasped as the world immediately shifted around him. Instantaneous transport. "Wow," he said, looking around him. "That was me that did that? And not you?"

"I'm only in your head, a figment of your imagination. I'm not really here. No one else can see or hear me. Just you."

"Great. What else can I do now that I couldn't before?"

"Well, you don't need sleep for one. Won't ever get tired."

"Sweet. So all I have to do is embrace the darkness?"

"Yes, embrace the power you wield. Use it however you want really. You can make deals like Rumpelstiltskin, or you can spread terror throughout the land like Zoso. You are the most powerful magic user working in the realm. There's only one thing you can't do, no matter how you try."

"What's that?" he wondered. He'd heard once growing up magic had three basic laws. So if there was one thing he couldn't do, he wanted to know it.

"You can't bring the dead back to life. It's beyond our power. You can go back in time, make a person like another, and kill as easily as breaking a twig, but dead is dead."

"Great. Don't have anyone I want to bring back anyway."

"Good. You have a customer coming. She's the reason you're here. You can make a deal with her, or kill her. Makes no difference to me."

With a wink he disappeared, just as a girl in a green plaid cloak over a blue dress and long wavy red hair stepped into view. She paused as she looked at him, taking in his gray robes. Dante also noted she was carrying a bow in her hand, with a quiver on her back. There was also a sword on her belt.

"Who are you?" She asked, in a thick Scottish accent.

"Dante, and I bet you're going out looking for trouble."

"Aye. Me brothers were kidnapped by the United clans of my country. Just three wee, innocent boys. All because of me."

"I could help you with that. Are you willing to make a deal with the Dark One?"

"I thought Rumpelstiltskin was the Dark One."

"I'm his replacement." Dante explained, stepping forward.

"What will it cost me?"

Dante moved close beside the redhead, running a finger under her cloak, "Well, I'm sure we could work something out."

Merida slapped his hand away, and stepped back. "I'll do no such thing!"

"Have it your way," Dante said, stepping back with hands raised. "Unified clans, huh? Wonder how much they'd pay for me to kill you. Seems that if they have to resort to taking children they could use my services."

Merida was about to turn away when the last of his words caused her to turn back. "You would kill me?"

"If they pay. They want you out of the way anyway, am I right?"

Merida started to glance around, then placed the tip of her bow against the ground. "What do you want to stay out of this unless I call you?"

Dante glanced her up and down. "Let's start with a kiss, miss. Then if you need my services, we can move on to," he glanced down at her small frame, "other things."

"If need be, we can discuss that then. Alright thought, you have a deal. A kiss if you stay away from the clans until I summon you."

Dante moved back up to her, then wrapping his arms around her, leaned in over her. Merida leaned her head back and then their lips met. For several long moments, Dante enjoyed the kiss. He knew it was unlikely he'd ever find the people who held her brothers, but it did get some joys in life bluffing he could.

After the kiss, Dante let her go. Merida wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve. "How do I summon you if I need you?"

"Just say my name three times, and I shall appear. Might need a moment, still getting used to magic."

"Dante, yes?"

"Yes. Until then my dear, ta." Dante then imagined the pile of rocks he materialized at, and appeared there. It was so much easier than walking through the woods.

* * *

Chapter 2

"Well, at least you got to kiss the girl."

Dante whirled and saw Figment leaned up against a tree. "The young girl will most likely be needing my services. Just a feeling."

"Time will tell. For the Dark Ones, that can be a long time. Ever since Nimea drank from the Grail. We're all immortal."

"Great, wasn't looking forward to growing old anyway. Did Rumpel have a house or something here? Kind of hard to just stand around doing nothing with no roof over your head."

"Hmm, yes. He did have a castle. Fell apart, sadly. Not much fit for habitation, still, might do you as a beginner castle."

Dante thought it over. It was better than sitting around on a pile of broken rocks. "Alright, can you describe the setting for me?" He described the setting, and with a billow of blue around him, materialized in a ruin of a castle. "Certainly falling apart."

"Should have seen it when Rumple was here to take care of it."

"I'm not nostalgic, Figment. For me, it's better to start over. Build better, stronger, more," Dante said, gauging the distance to the wall from the castle and realizing that this place was more likely some king's vacation home, "spacious."

"It'll make a good start. Right now you got nothing but the clothes on your back. Speaking of which, you can use magic to change your clothes."

Dante looked down at the dark cloak he wore. It definitely wasn't his normal attire. "Let me guess, picture myself wearing the style of clothes I want, and let the magic build them?"

"Got it one, dearie," Figment said, rubbing his non-existent hands together. "But this land favors leather over the cloth of your realm. Just remember that when you design your new suit."

Dante began to imagine his clothes from before. He was always fond of his blue jeans and western shirts, but images of Mister Gold in his fancy suits and Figment's leather attire intruded on his thoughts. Shaking his head, he instead imagined himself naked, then built his new suit from the ground up.

He gave himself black silk socks, to insulate his feet from the boots he would wear. The boots were more of a traditional cowboy boot, with a sharp point. The tops hugged his calves and he gave them a zippered side to allow him to remove them easily should he need to play normal. He then imagined a pair of form fitting black leather pants, with a thick silver belt with a dagger style prong against a snakelike frame.

He looked at the image in his head, then changed the boots to a motorcycle style boot with a silver harness at the ankle. He kept the toe pointed, but added a silver boot tip that his brain engrained the dagger he had used to destroy the darkness attacking Regina onto. Liking the way it felt, he left it. Moving up, he went through several shirt ideas, finally settling on a red silk shirt with a full collar and silver buttons. He added a black snakeskin double breasted vest to it, using scarlet pearls for the buttons.

It was a good look, he thought, then placed a black silk dress cravat around his neck with a silver pin. He concentrated on the pin and inserted a silhouette on the silver surface, that of a rabbit's head, with one ear bent slightly forward and one ear straight up. Once done, it was simple to let the magic flow over him, changing the loose robe to the form fitting clothes he decided on. He looked himself over, liking the overall look, then noticed the dagger engraved on the boot tip.

"Our symbol," Figment said, being serious after noticing Dante's look. "That symbol is the mark of the Dark One, the dagger to which we are bound. Even now, it bears your name, Dante. Should anyone but us wield it, they control us. It, and only it, can kill us."

"So, say I catch an arrow to the heart?"

"Right back to where you started," Figment said, smiling. "Nimea done us well. Only our dagger can kill us."

"A dagger that controls me," Dante said, not happy as he inspected the ruined castle. He tested making a fireball, smiling as the flame poured into his hand. He tossed the ball up, then threw it at the ruined bookshelves. The fireball exploded as it hit, spreading fire across the wood. Dante then extended his hand, extinguishing the flame.

"So much to learn," Figment said. The lessons began.

* * *

Chapter 3

It had been days since Dante had started his training. Him and figment had been going at it day and night when he felt the summons. Figment had already filled him in on what to do, so it was easy to just poof right to his summoner. It turned out to be the redhead from before.

"Dante, I need your help," she said, arms crossed as she stood in the corner. She obviously wasn't happy, having been deprived of her weapons.

"I'll say. Who'd you upset?"

"King Arthur. I apparently stole one of his boats."

Dante chuckled, poofing around was so much better. "What do you want, my dear?"

"I want you to take me to my brothers," she asked, arms still crossed, "and restore my sword and bow to me"

Dante could feel the sword and bow, just outside the cell. "Now, you want me to take you back where I first met you, or do you know where your brothers are being held?"

"You can take me anywhere?"

"Anywhere you can describe with crystal clarity. Once I can see it in my head, I can take you there," he said, adding a silent 'I hope' as he looked out the bars.

Merida began describing the scene for him, and Dante was able to see it clearly enough that he could transport her when she agreed to a price.

"Now, my dear, as I'm sure you've heard. All magic comes with a price."

"Aye, though I have no wish to be turned into a bear for my troubles," she said.

"A bear, hardly. I'm new to these lands. I have no idea who the rulers are, who the magic users are, and more importantly, what to take from people. To that end, I'm going to have to ask that you owe me. Any one thing I come to you and ask for," Dante said, even as he appraised the magical strength of the bars.

"Any one thing? Even my kingdom?" Merida asked, finally uncrossing her arms.

"Kingdom? Hardly. What use have I for titles of nobility? I am shopping for some land at the moment. Though I have yet to find anything worthwhile. So hard to find a secluded valley, these days"

"Might I suggest you search west of my castle in the mountains. There are many valleys where none of my subjects go."

"That I will, your majesty," he said, nodding. "Do we have a deal?"

"Aye, we do." She said

"First, your weapons," he said, trying to make them appear. He could feel something fight him, and nothing appeared in the blue smoke.

"Don't tell me you've become trapped in here as well," she said, scoffing at his failure.

"I'm the Dark One," he said, steeling his face, then roared "NOTHING STOPS ME!" With a violent kick, he brought the wall by the bars down. Picking up her weapons, he tossed them to Merida just as several guards came around the corner, swords drawn.

He caught the first sword in his hand as its owner swung it on him, then he wrenched it free and kicked the owner in the chest knocking him hard into the wall behind him. He then threw the sword aside, letting Merida don her weapons while he dealt with the guards. The second guard tried to tackle him, but Dante sidestepped him. Before the guard could recover, Dante snapped his neck. The third guard tried to run, but Dante yanked him back with his magic, then threw him into the cell with a loud clang. Dante strode over as the guard tried to raise his sword, but Dante caught his sword arm, turned it around and stabbed it through his armor into the rock behind him.

Merida stood shocked at the sight of an outraged Dante, before he let his features soften back to a normal appearance.

"I really do hate being caged," he said, as he stepped back through the opening. Turning back, he offered his hand to Merida, who took it with a grimace. Once Merida was through the hole, he poofed them to the location she had described, only to find an empty clearing.

"Damn, I hoped they'd be here," Merida said, looking around.

"Well, you're free of that cell," Dante remarked, looking at the dimly lit sky. The sun seemed to be setting, which meant the redhead would be getting tired soon. He didn't get tired, sure, but he doubted that she'd last another hour or two, let alone the whole night.

"Do you want to put up for the night? Or do you have an idea where to head?" he asked her.

"It'd be best to put up for the night," Merida said, shaking her head as she sagged against her bow. "If we're seen, they might attack me, or kill my brothers before I can do anything." She seemed to deflate, as she took in the situation. "We'll make camp here, we can head to the next one at first light.


	3. Stargate: Frozen XOver 01

Author's Note: This one is intended to portray Elsa as a villain, though not of her own will. The synopsis I have will take Elsa, Anna, Dr. Jackson and Major Carter from the past to the present, and make some changes to how later events are portrayed. Please note, that in keeping with the Stargate Universe, Elsa's powers will have a scientific reasoning behind them, and are not just 'magic.'

* * *

Stargate: Frozen

Set during Season 7

 _Italics is when the host is think talking._

 **Bold is when the Goa'uld think talking.**

 _ **Italics, bold and underline is a goa'uld speaking in that special double voice of theirs.**_

Chapter 1

Dr. Jackson took cover behind a column, taking fire from several Jaffa. He reloaded his Beretta, and looked over at Major Carter. She had her special rifle ready, and with a coordination born of years of teamwork, came around their pillars and started to fire at the Jaffa. Their bullets took down the Jaffa with ease, and soon were the only ones left standing.

"That went well," Dr. Jackson commented, as he and Major Carter surveyed the downed Jaffa.

" _ **Indeed it did**_ ," he heard a voice say, as Major Carter was blasted forward. An arm wrapped itself around his neck and yanked him backwards off his feet. He tried to get his feet under him, but the goa'uld wrestled him face forward, his gun arm pinned behind him.

" _ **Keep resisting, and I will break your arm**_ ," he hissed in Jackson's ear.

As Dr. Jackson was about to give his reply, more of the Jaffa arrived, staff weapons began to level at him. With that, he knew he would have to stop resisting, as there was no way he could fight everyone at once.

" _ **Much better. Take them to my ship**_."

Dr. Jackson was led at staff point to a long cylindrical ship of about thirty feet, while two of the Jaffa dragged Major Carter behind him. There were taken inside through a door behind the pilots chair into the cargo hold. The Jaffa then took all of their weapons and equipment and then Jackson was left standing while Carter was left unconscious on the floor. When the door was sealed by destroying the interior control panel, Dr. Jackson began to rouse Carter, who finally came around.

"Remind me to blame the Tok'ra for the bad intelligence on this one," Jackson groused, as he sat on a crate.

"My father," Carter began, sitting up to lean against the door, "wouldn't lie to us."

"No, but the Tok'ra High Council don't always tell him everything either."

"Selmak..."

"Ever since Selmak entered your father, the council doesn't seem to trust him either."

Carter kept silent on that one, as the sounds of battle raged around them. After several moments, she got up, and started to examine the destroyed control box. After a while she shook her head.

"It's too damaged. I can't open it from this side."

With a hum, the ship came to life around them. Carter and Jackson looked at each other, then went to the other door. They had only begun to look at the control box when the forward door opened, revealing the goa'uld, dressed in his gold trimmed clothes. He walked in, holding the remote to unlock the iris covering Earth's Stargate.

" _ **You will give me the code to unlock Earth's Stargate, or you will both die,**_ " holding the device to Dr. Jackson.

"Yea, that's not happening," Jackson said, crossing his arms.

Without warning, the goa'uld snapped his hand against Major Carter's forehead, the hand device humming as it scrambled the major's brain. " _ **Time is short. Enter the code, and I will stop. Or don't, and she dies.**_ "

With a grunt, Dr. Jackson entered the code, careful to keep the combination hidden. Then gave the device back. The goa'uld stopped, lowering his hand device. Major Carter slumped against the wall, eyes unfocused. Taking the device, he left back through the door to the cockpit, closing it behind him. Jackson went over to Sam, helping her into a sitting position.

"I'm alright Daniel, just let me get my bearings."

With a lurch of motion Daniel felt the ship take off. He and Carter looked at each other, then felt the ship dive. Entering the Stargate's wormhole was unmistakeable, as they had a quick glimpse of passing through the event horizon before being reconstituted on the other side. Daniel breathed a quick sigh of relief. If they were now in Stargate Command, General Hammond had the ship under lockdown. Being at the very bottom level of the Cheyenne Mountain Complex of NORAD meant that the ship had nowhere to go. They were trapped.

That thought lasted about a minute. The goa'uld opened the door to the hold, and Daniel had a narrow view of an ice covered cave.

" _ **Dr. Jackson, I was under the impression that your base was a military fortress."**_

"It is. This looks like our Antartic gate. But the gate here was moved years ago."

Carter groaned, "Don't tell me we gated into the past again."

" _ **I was not aware the Chappa'ai had such possibility."**_

"It does, but its like finding a needle in a haystack in one try. It might happen once in your lifetime, but that's about it," Daniel explained.

"How far in the past are we?"

"Given that we are at the Antartic gate, and not the SGC, at least fifty years. Maybe longer."

" _ **Fifty years? When Ra was still in power?"**_ Though his voice was carefully neutral, Daniel noted a hint of worry. He should be, Ra was the most powerful goa'uld ever at one point. Dominating the others into submission for thousands of years. Daniel nodded. The goa'uld turned around and left Carter and him locked in the hold. It didn't take long for the sounds of weapons fire to reach them.

"Daniel, if we are in the past," Carter started to say.

"Jack will go to Thor for help. If anyone can find us, it's the Asgard." Daniel told her, referring to the diminutive alien species that often helped them.

"If that's the case, why aren't they here already? We might only have been here for moments in our time, but Thor should have already been here if he's coming," Carter explained. "I think we might be a little lost, or further back in time making finding us much more difficult."

"How much further," Daniel asked, wincing even though he didn't want to know the answer.

"Theoretically? Hundreds of years. It all depends on where we were in the stream when we passed by the solar flare. There's no way to know unless we interact with the locals," Carter told him, then hung her head. "And Daniel, we can't interact with the locals without damaging the time stream. If we do, we could seriously alter the course of future events."

"Right," with a splurge of motion, they felt the ship lift back into the air. That told them they were airborne again. "But didn't we make the necessary changes when we traveled back the first time? General Hammond already knew we'd been to 1969, even that Jack owed him for loaning us money during the escape."

"You mean that time has a set path, and that our coming back is already a part of the past. It's iffy Daniel, and not supported by known science."

"What else are we going to do? We have to wait for Jack to find us. Maybe they can't get the specific time, and be here in a few days. But we have to give them the chance to find us."

"First, we need to get this engine room door open. I think I can rig something to blow up. It might cause the ship to burn up though in reentry," Sam said, jimmying the panel off. She then pulled a few crystals, inserting one in a different slot and opened the door. Once inside she pulled a few racks of crystals out of a wall. After examining a few, she started to pull crystals out, rearranging others. After a moment, she opened another rack and switched a crystal with out. Daniel looked back to the front to see the doors there open.

"We've only got a minute before the engines shutdown," Sam explained, as she closed the racks.

The moved quickly through the hold, finding that the ship was climbing into the upper atmosphere already. Sam located their weapons, and picked up her rifle. Aiming it at the goa'uld, she and Daniel moved to the single escape pod.

" _ **I will hunt you down for this**_ ," the goa'uld spat.

"I doubt you will survive the fall back to Earth," Daniel said, as he and Sam squeezed into the pod. Sam hit the activation button, and the doors sealed on them as the goa'uld howled. They were still aboard as the ship lurched to the side. With a sudden boom, they were launched back to Earth, the escape pod punching into the atmosphere without a problem but at an angle.

The goa'uld though refused to let them off so easy. He grabbed the controls and tried to follow the escape pod. The engines were overheating, causing the controls to become sluggish. He reentered the atmosphere, the display showing the path they had taken. He was so intent on following his quarry that he failed to notice how endangered his ship was. He only found out when he tried to slow to land. He saw the pod impact low on the mountain, but the ship was now only a metal meteor, devoid of all control. He saw the peak loom ahead, and with a final howl of denial, watched his ship crash into the peak.

Elsa stood on the balcony to her new castle, admiring the sunrise. From here, she had a completely unobstructed view of the sun as it rose to illustrate the snow around her. It was beautiful, peaceful. And then she heard a sound like thunder. Looking around, she saw no clouds blocking the stars.

Then she saw it. A streak of fire in the night sky. Headed straight for the peak.

She watched in fascination as the streak of fire came right next to her castle, flying as straight as an arrow. It impacted the snow at the peak, and seamed to come to a stop. The fire was immediately extinguished by the snow around it, and she could see it was a metal cylinder. A hole opened in the side, and a man dressed in gold stumbled out of it and falling into the snow.

Elsa rushed through her castle, trying to get to the man. Once through the front doors and down the stairs, she ran across the snow. The man lay there, face down, the snow around him already crimson from blood. She turned him over, seeing his pale face. He mumbled something she couldn't hear, so she leaned close to hear his final words. The man opened his mouth again, but nothing came out.

"What?" she managed to say before something jumped from the man's mouth to hers. She could feel the snakelike thing break through the back of her throat and wriggle its way into her body. She tried to get her fingers around it, but she couldn't get a purchase on the slick hide. Soon though, the snake was curled around her spine, and she was gagging on bile at the back of her throat.

Then she spit up bile mixed with blood.

' _I didn't spit_ ,' she thought, as she straightened up. ' _I'm not doing this_!'

' **I am, though** ,' she heard in her thoughts. It was deep, thundering inside her head as if she were hearing a roar. ' **You are my slave now. I will use your body to enslave the people of this world and I will be worshiped as the god I am**.'

' _You're a demon, and I will resist you_!' she screamed internally, lacking even a voice now.

Elsa tried to resist the being as it began removing a golden device with a large ruby from the wounded man's hand. Suddenly its name and use became clear to her. It was a kara kesh, and it would attack or torture its victim and protect her with a force field. More items came into her head as she thought about force fields. She suddenly knew how to make them, how they were used, and what they could withstand. It was like suddenly being dropped in a literal sea of knowledge, and she struggled to survive.

She watched as her the device was put on her left hand, and the demon within her adjusted it to fit her. Once she was wearing it, the demon flexed her hand experimentally, then felt the charge run through her body causing the device to project a wall of force against the snow. The demon seemed stunned as the kara kesh was suddenly engulfed in ice, caused by her own power.

' **What's this? You can control ice? And snow? You are indeed a valuable host.** "

' _Get out_ ,' she screamed, and with a mental shove that sent a spike of pain worse than any headache she had ever felt through her, and she fell to her knees. She looked at the strange golden device attached around her wrist and hand. Surprised she actually had control, then another spike of pain that caused the world to grow dark around the edges sent her mentally stumbling.

' **Do that again, and I will make your days miserable** ,' he boomed. Elsa could only cringe under the mental pain the demon gave her. She decided instead to focus on the information being forced into her. The demon was itself a goa'uld, which looked somewhat like a snake with fins. She also knew that it was now wrapped around her spine and was controlling her like a marionette doll. They had the ability to pass on their knowledge by encoding it into their genes. So she also knew their history.

The goa'uld left their home planet using a race known as Unas, which did indeed look like demons. They found the ancient technology they used, and used it to enslave others, amassing even greater knowledge. The problem was, though the goa'uld weren't immortal. One goa'uld, trying to evade death, came to Earth. He was one of the most powerful, and his name was Ra. Ra found a host, and with his great knowledge found that his new host could be kept alive indefinitely. This new planet, Tau'ri, was harvested for its people which abounded on the planet.

With a shock, she realized it was Earth. Ra and the goa'uld played gods to their slaves with their vast technology. However, Earth was lost to them when the slaves under Ra revolted, causing Ra to leave and then they buried the Chappa'ai, a large ring of quartz that projected a wormhole through space and connected planets. The goa'uld then used their ships to come occasionally, harvesting great amounts of new slaves. The slaves were taken to the stars, to other planets where life was able to thrive.

Some of these slaves were used as a military. They were called the Jaffa. The Jaffa's big advantage was that when they carried the infant goa'uld, called a symbiote, they became stronger and faster. They remained loyal as the symbiote would eventually mature into a goa'uld, and when they did, they had to have a new symbiote or they'd get sick and die as the symbiote replaced their immune system.

Just like the mature goa'uld, she realized. Even now, she could feel parts of her immune system shutting down. Within the day, she'd no longer be able to survive without the goa'uld inside her. It meant that if the demon left her, she was guaranteed to die within hours. She was its slave. Forever trapped inside her own body, forced to watch and unable to stop the horror the demon would unleash.

Sam and Daniel crawled out of the escape pod into the middle of a snow filled landscape. They quickly tightened their coats, then removed their patches identifying their rank, country and their affiliation with the SGC and stowed them in their pockets.

"Must be midwinter," Daniel noted, as he wrapped his arms around himself.

"At least our uniforms give us some protection," Sam replied. "Our boots are thermal protected, and our coats are designed to keep the wind out. That helps a lot with wind chill."

"Which way do you think to town?"

"Let's ask those two," Sam said, pointing at two people approaching with some kind of horned animal, which Sam thought was a reindeer.

"Hei der!" a woman called to them.

"It's Norwegian," Daniel told her. "Kan du hjelpe oss? Vi er tapt og kan ikke finne veien."

The woman and man approached. The woman was a little shorter than Sam, with red pig tails under a tie on hood. Her dress was blue, with a black bodice and an almost pale blue blouse. Her cape was a bright purple, almost red. The man on the other hand was dressed in something more like furs, with its brownish-black coarseness. He kept his ears warm with some kind of knit cap, which covered most of his blond hair.

"Arendelle er pa den maten, naer fjorden," she said, pointing down a path. "Vaer forsiktig med ulvene selv om de er sultne og vil angripe noe."

"She said Arendelle is that way," Daniel translated, "And to be wary of wolves. They are hungry and will attack people."

"You speak English?" she said, smiling.

"Yes, we're from the United States..." Daniel started to say before Sam cut him off.

"Daniel, we can't..." Sam started to say.

"Oh, did President Tyler send you?" she asked.

"No," Daniel quickly said. "We're explorers, out on our own. We just got a little lost."

"De skjuler noe, din majestet," the man said silently to the woman. She turned to face him, frowning when he added, "Jeg anbefaler a forlate dem her."

"De var nok bare forvirret av min soster forarsaker stormer. Det er min plikt som Prinsessen of Arendelle a hjelpe alle innenfor sine grenser."

The man seemed to deflate and Sam looked lost as she didn't understand Norwegian. "He says we're hiding something and we should be left here. She," Daniel interpreted for her, indicating the woman, "is apparently the Princess of Arendelle, and her sister caused the storms. She also says its her duty to help us."

"Great," Sam said.

"Please excuse my guide, Kristoff," the princess asked. "He means well, but it is my duty as princess to shelter all who enter my kingdom. I'm Princess Anna."

Daniel bowed before her, "It is an honor to meet you, Princess Anna. My name is Doctor Daniel Jackson. This is my friend and colleague, Doctor Samantha Carter."

"A pleasure, Princess Anna," Carter said, bowing.

"Just Anna please."

"You said your sister caused the storms?"

"Yes. Don't ask me how, she just got upset at her coronation and created this ice wall. She got scared, tried to run away, but ice kept spreading around wherever she went. That's when the storm started," she shuddered. "It's been that way ever since."

"And no idea how she caused them exactly? She never showed any power like this before?" Jackson queried. He knew causing ice like this was beyond the Goa'uld, but it could be a genetic condition.

"No, though she has locked herself away since she was eight. We used to play together all the time, but then one day, she just left me. No explanation. I used to try to get her to come out, get her to play with me, but she wouldn't. Then when our parents died, she refused to come out. Never went to their burial stone. Then when I tried to get her to bless my engagement to Prince Hans, she refused. Not only that, she refused to allow me to marry him."

"Anna, how long have you had that streak of white hair?" Carter asked.

"For as long as I can remember. I was always told I was born with it. Why do you ask?"

"I've seen hair be turned white before," she pointed out. "But it takes contact with an extremely cold object to do it."

"Sam," Jackson growled, under his breath.

"Wait, your saying that Elsa caused my hair to turn white? But that would mean," Anna said, stopping as her mind began to process what she was being told.

"I think the reason your sister locked herself away is because she hurt you. It probably wasn't intentional, maybe even an accident, but she hurt you. She locked herself away to protect you."

"Din majestet, hva som er galt? Hva er det de sier til deg?" Kristoff asked.

"De forteller meg sannheten om hvorfor min soster last seg unna. Jeg visste aldri at hun saret meg. Jeg kunne ikke huske."

"I'm sorry, its not our place to interfere," Sam said, wrapping an arm around the petite princess.

"No, I'm glad you told me. I never thought her power could be dangerous."

"Can't be all dangerous. She has controlled it well enough to hide it," Daniel theorized.

"True, she had to have some measure of control or she would have caused this when she was younger. Sounds more like a recent breakdown to me. Maybe medical in origin. Could be entirely accidental on her part. Or stress related. A lot of variables to weed out." Doctor Carter was thoughtful, but then she realized when and where she was. "But that's speculation at this point."

Princess Anna shrugged her shoulders. "Speculation is all I have at this point. But, I am her sister. She won't knowingly hurt me. If what you say about her turning my hair white when we were children is true, she locked herself away for years to prevent it from happening again. We can work through this. I know we can."

"All we need to do is find her," Daniel pointed out.

"That's easy. She's at the peak of North Mountain. The storms seems to roll off the summit, so that's where Kristoff was taking me."

"Do you mind if we come along? We might be able to help, if nothing else," Sam asked.

"Sure, if you think you can survive the trip," Princess Anna said, eying the little clothing they wore. "If you do not mind me saying, you already look half frozen."

"Our jackets have a thermal lining. It can keep us warm by insulating us from the wind and cold," Sam explained.

"We usually do it with heavy cloth. A lot of heavy cloth," Anna said, as the group started to follow Kristoff and his reindeer up the trail. She eyed the two strangers as they proceeded on, more importantly the blond named Doctor Carter. She hadn't met many women who weren't maids, being locked in the castle since she was a little girl, but none of the women she'd met since her sister's coronation the day before had been more than a diplomat's wife. It was a little odd, to say the least.

Translations:

Hei der. - Hi there.

Kan du hjelpe oss? Vi er tapt og kan ikke finne veien til byen. - Can you help us? We are lost and can not find our way to town.

Arendelle er pa den maten, naer fjorden. - Arendelle is that way, near the fjord.

Vaer forsiktig med ulver. De er sultne og vil angripe noe. - Be careful of wolves. They are hungry and will attack anything.

De skjuler noe, din majestet. - They're hiding something, your majesty.

Jeg anbefaler vi la dem her. - I highly recommend we leave them here.

De var nok bare forvirret av min soster forarsaker stormer. Det er min plikt som Prinsessen of Arendelle a hjelpe alle innenfor sine grenser. - They were probably just confused by my sister causing storms. It is my duty as Princess of Arendelle to help everyone within its borders.

Din majestet, hva som er galt? Hva er det de sier til deg? - Your majesty, What's wrong? What are they saying to you?

De forteller meg sannheten om hvorfor min soster last seg unna. Jeg visste aldri at hun saret meg. Jeg kunne ikke huske. - They tell me the truth about why my sister went away. I never knew that she hurt me. I could not remember.


	4. Quantum Reality 01

Author's Note: In a lot of ways, this was intended to be light hearted, but some of this I intended to write darker. It's a parody of Quantum Leap, but instead of jumping into the past in different people's lives, this time Sam jumps into the lives of movie, book and TV characters brought to life by a new generation VR system with a quantum level AI (Ziggy) that keeps the story going even if it changes. More of a cross between Matrix and the Holodeck off of Star Trek, but instead of being a prison, you experience movies, books and TV as a character portrayed by you.

Sounds better than it really is, and I promise to keep it clean.

Ish.

Who am I kidding, I'll be lucky if I don't get jail time.

* * *

Quantum Leap Parody

Quantum Entertainment

Episode 1 – Aladdin

Sam stood in the basement of his house, as he tapped some commands into Ziggy, his custom built supercomputer. He was ready to finally test his new invention. A virtual reality interface. He was finally going to be able to enter and be a part of his favorite movies, books and games. Not just that it was generating text on screen, or seeing a character on screen move and interact with an environment. It would actually generate a real, physically interactive world he could move around in, participate in.

He would physically be in whatever world he wanted to partake in.

He went through the database he built into Ziggy. He selected a movie he wanted to so he could test the new system. He made a few minor changes, making a few characters older than they originally were in the movie. There were laws in place against not making some of his changes, after all. Tapping some controls, he readied the imaging chamber. It was going to take a moment to charge up. He was giddy, he was finally going to do it. It just had to charge.

He wanted to tell someone, so he reached for the phone.

-o-0-o-

Al was driving his new Corvette down the highway, heading nowhere really. Burning the roads, his parents called it. Boredom was what he called it. A girl with a breakdown ahead lightened his mood. He thought the girl hot, and from the smoke coming from under the hood, knew her motor was. Whew it was bad. He stopped beside her as she looked under the hood. She noticed, coming over as he rolled down the window.

"Need a lift to town, toots?"

"Sure," she said, climbing in. He revved the engine and left his own smoke as he pulled away from her broke down car. He watched as she settled into the passenger seat, putting on her seat belt. He had barely gotten a mile away before his phone rang.

"You got Al," he said, after accepting the call.

"Al! I did it, it's ready!" Sam's voice sounded over the car's speakers.

"It? You mean, it?!" he said, oh not now he thought. "Sam! Don't do anything till I get there! Sam?!" This guy is going to be the death of me, he thought as the call ended.

He had to go stop that crazy nut. Who knew what horrors he could unleash on his own mind.

-o-0-o-

Al pulled into Sam's house, tire's squealing from the excessive speed. He'd left the dame behind at the repair shop, so she could get her car fixed. He didn't need the distraction, anyway. He parked the car by turning off the motor and leaving it in first gear, then opened his door and entered the house. Down in the basement he found the basement room empty.

"Sam!" he yelled, looking around. Wait, why is the imaging chamber closed? "Oh, no," he moaned. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through the contacts until he found Gooshie's number, then dialed it. Sam was going to be the death of him. He just knew it!

"Gooshie, it's Al. Sam did it! He's in the imaging chamber now!"

"He said he was going to wait!" Gooshie yelled back through the phone. "I'm on my way, but whatever you do, don't turn off the power!"

"Alright," Al said, as he sat in the office chair. "Just hurry, you know what virtual reality could do to his brain?!"

"Yes, I do, Al. I'll be there in five minutes. But until then, don't mess with anything."

-o-0-o-

Sam opened had to close his eyes to shield them from the bright lights he saw as the connection was made. When he opened his eyes, he could see the sun, bright and warm on the stone around him. He stepped forward, hearing the Sultan give announce his daughter's engagement to Prince Ali.

"Look at them cheering that little pipsqueak," Iago said from his shoulder. The parrot actually looked and sounded like a parrot now, not Gilbert Gottfried.

"Let them cheer," he said. Sam smiled, everything was moving as it should. He was in, and more importantly, he was now Jafar, and he had the Genie's lamp. He cradled the bronze lamp in his hands, then turned away and began rubbing the side. A billow of blue smoke erupted from the lamp, coalescing into the Genie.

"You know Al," he started, then stopped upon noticing Sam. "I really don't think you're him.

"Genie, my first wish! I wish to rule on high, as Sultan!" Sam roared, deciding to follow the script a little.

The Genie bowed before him, then transported them above the pavilion where the Sultan was announcing his daughter's upcoming wedding plans. Sam was able to watch as dark clouds formed and circled the palace, high winds whipping around him. The roof of the pavilion is ripped of in the wind revealing the Sultan, Princess Jasmine, and Aladdin.

He watches as the clothes the Sultan were wearing slipped right off the Sultan and wrapped themselves around him, transforming the clothes he wore into the Sultan's, right down to the turban.

"Jafar, you vile betrayer!" the former Sultan yelled at him.

"That's Sultan Vile Betrayer to you!" Iago yelled back.

"Oh yea, we'll see about that!" Aladdin yelled, pulling off his own turban. The look on his face was one of pure shock when he realizes the lamp is missing.

"Finders keepers, Aladdin!" Sam roared, a smile of pure glee on his face. He was so winning this one.

From his view above the palace, Sam watches as Genie lifts the palace and sets it atop a mountain, the clouds now below the palace and obstructing the view of Agrabah.

"Jafar, I order you to stop!" the old man commands, his tone one used to commanding servants.

"I am Sultan now, YOU will BOW to me!" Sam bellows, as the Genie finally sets him down on the castle wall.

"We will never bow to you!" Jasmine says, crossing her arms.

"Why am I not surprised?" Iago squawks, still on Sam's shoulder. Sam knew this was unavoidable, the second wish is what makes him truly powerful.

"Genie! My second wish. I wish to be, the most powerful sorcerer in the world!"

The Genie's magic strikes him, and he feels himself pulled into a ball, magic, power and electricity arcing through him. When he's set back down, he's back to his red and black robes, with a solid gold staff formed into a cobra in his hand.

"Where were we? Ah, yes, I said bow!" Sam commands, using his magic to force the princess and old man to their knees. Sam hears Rajah roar as he runs at him, but Sam turns him into a cub. "Princess? There's someone I should introduce you to."

Sam uses his magic to ensnare Aladdin, still in his prince attire, and makes him bow in front of him. "Prince Ali Ababwa." A gag appears over his mouth before he can say anything. "You've met I'm sure. He comes, parading around, wooing your heart, and he lies to you."

"Prince Ali?" Jasmine says, looking at Aladdin.

"Yes, you have met before. This was the young street rat I was accused of having beheaded. You remember that? Meet young Aladdin," Sam says, then reverts Aladdin's prince attire to his street rat clothes. Jasmine's eyes grow wide at seeing Aladdin.

"How? Why?" Jasmine begins to stammer, but Sam cuts her off.

"Why do you think? He wanted you, used the magic of a genie to become a prince just so he could claim you as his bride."

"Aladdin?" Jasmine says, the one word causing Aladdin's head to hang. Genie hung his head too, though he stayed in the background.

"See, my dear? Men have tried your entire life to claim you as a bride just so they could lay claim to your father's kingdom. Aladdin is no different. He has no throne of his own waiting for him. No gold to provide for you. He's a worthless street urchin! Stealing food to eat just so he can survive. A drain on my kingdom. What do you have to say, street rat?"

Aladdin could only make muffled sounds as he was still gagged. Sam laughed, knowing Aladdin was about to be finished. He turned back to Jasmine, seeing the tears in her eyes. Her entire world had just come crashing down around her ears, and all she could do was stare at the man she had once loved. "So, Jasmine. What do you think we should do with the street rat?"

Jasmine finally looked at Sam, the shock, hatred and betrayal evident in her face. She looked back at Aladdin, her face finally steeling into a mask of resolve. Sam could see it in the way she still held herself. Finally she spoke.

"Aladdin, as Princess of Agrabah, I sentence you to death. For the betrayal of the city to the hands of its enemies, and for pretending to be of royal birth."

Aladdin hung his head, and Sam laughed. "Death it is then," and laughing, he hit Aladdin with an aging spell, then teleported him out of sight. No need for Jasmine to see the grisly end of a man forced to age to a million years in five seconds flat. With Aladdin's death, Jasmine seemed to deflate, and turned to her father. Sam could tell she was crushed emotionally.

"There, there dearest," the old man, trying to comfort his daughter.

"Well, you've only got your looks now, to offer in marriage. No money, no throne, no dowry. In fact, your looks are about the only thing anyone will want from you anymore." Sam noticed that each item he named off caused Jasmine to sink further into her father's arms. It was what he wanted. To tear her down so she'd accept his proposal.

"It'll be alright," the old man said, trying to comfort a now crying Jasmine.

"Now, if you want, I will take you as a wife," Sam offered.

Jasmine brought her head up. "Why?"

"Let's just say, I have no qualms about kicking you out into the street, but I have grown rather found of the idea of marrying you for the brief amount of time I had your father under my control. I'm not interested in gold and I already have your father's throne. So, if you would agree to marry me, I'll spare you from being forced penniless into the street where you'd be forced to either sell your beauty for bread to eat to keep from watching your father die, or be forced to marry some near penniless merchant who won't care for your father at all, and still be forced to watch him starve to death."

"If I would agree to marry you?" Jasmine asked, standing beside her father.

"Dearest, don't do this," her father urged her. "There are merchants who were rather found of me as Sultan."

"Main word being 'were'," Sam pointed out. "Now, you and your father are nothing more than a drain on the city as homeless vagrants."

"If I marry you, will you promise to take care of him?" Jasmine asked, even as tears leaked down her cheeks.

"Yes, my dear. Is it a deal then?" Sam asked, extending his long bony hand.

Jasmine looked rather reprehensibly at Sam's outstretched hand, then took it. "Yes,' she said simply.

Sam smiled, then made a suit of clothes appear over her father, earning a quick thank you from him before he teleported Jasmine and himself to her room. She shivered as she took in her surroundings, then looked back at Sam. "Why are we here?"

"Why do you think, my dear?" Sam said, stepping up behind her to wrap his left arm around her waist and the right he ran down her shoulder and upper arm. "We have a union to consummate."

"Oh," she said, as she eyed the small bed upon which she slept.

* * *

Sam was arranging his new robe as he left a crying Jasmine on her bed to sleep. He hadn't made it very far before he saw Al playing with his phone.

"Al," Sam growled, kind of irate that his best friend, who was not that mechanically or electrically minded, had hooked himself up and inserted himself into his reality. "What are you doing here?"

Al put his phone away, then turned to face Sam, his face set in hard lines. "What am I doing here? What the hell are you doing here? Sam, we talked about this. It isn't ready. If anything happens in here, your mind could be swiss cheesed."

"Al, I fixed it." Sam said smiling. "I had that breakthrough this morning. I finally got secondary memory buffer to work!"

"It works?"

"Yes! I now know everything I'm supposed to. How magic works here, who everyone's names are, and what my job duties were. I know the names of the local kingdoms, their kings and sultans, important people, and I'm still me!"

Al deflated at that. "Wow. We were worried Sam. But there are better ways of getting some than making it with a virtual reality princess. I don't care if she was a virgin."

"You saw that?"

"Please, you still have much to learn, my genius friend. So why the sixteen year old bimbo?"

"Well, I changed her age to eighteen, first of all. Didn't feel right doing that to her at sixteen."

"Sam, you're still eighteen. It's legal!"

"Al, that's beside the point. At eighteen, she's physically mature."

"So," Al said, then grinned rather lasciviously. "Ah, bigger melons."

"Right. So, who got you in?"

"Gooshie figured it out. Took him thirty minutes, but he got me rigged up. I'm not as deep as you. No one can see me or hear me, I'm piggy backed on your stream."

"Gooshie! Al, you go back and get his hands off Ziggy before he DOES swiss cheese my brain!"

"Relax, Sam. He's," Al started to say when his phone went off. "Hang on. Gooshie? Yeah, I have him. No, he's not harmed, he's alright. Yes, I'm talking to him. A storm? I'll tell him."

"A storm? Great," Sam said.

"He also said he likes your work. Very ahead of its time."

"Al, we got a problem," Sam said, his face going slack.

"What? Oh, wait, yeah, how do you get out?"

"I just will myself back to my body. It was so easy, I done checked it, months ago. Just a quick jaunt into an empty room. It's not working!"

Al picked up his phone, dialing out. "Gooshie? What did you do! Sam said the exit program isn't working!" Al looked panicked as he listened. "Put it back!"

"Al?"

"Gooshie removed a red memory stick. I remember that stick," Al said.

"The exit program? He removed it?"

"He's putting it back," Al said, then the world flashed white. When he could see again, he was in an empty room. "Sam? Sam!" He quickly tapped on his phone, then the world went dark. He blinked his eyes, then woke back up in his body. He could see Gooshie slouched against the wall, smoke still coming from his clothes. Donna crouched over him, checking on him.

"What happened?" Al demanded, even as he couldn't move from being strapped down.

"Lightning strike," Donna said, shaking her head. "Ziggy's scrambled, so if you dropped out, what about Sam?"

"I don't know, the door is supposed to open when he disconnects," Al said, wriggling a hand free to rub his aching head.

"You mean, with the exit program?" Gooshie asked, holding up the red memory chip to show it was half melted.

"Oh, no," Al mourned. "That was supposed to get him out."

"We got other problems," Donna said, as she went back to the screens. "Billions of lines of code are gone. Most of them were added within the last three months."

"Sam just uploaded a secondary memory buffer this morning. It protects him from drastic harm while giving him all the knowledge he's supposed to know," Al exclaimed.

"Well, it's gone. And with no exit program, he's stuck," Donna said, then her face fell.

"What's wrong?" Al asked, noticing Donna's sour face.

"The program dumped Sam from where he was. It's uploaded a new program."

"Which one? Terminator? Robocop? Stripper Named Desire?" Al asked, having donated the last one himself from his private stash..

"Frozen," Donna said, wincing as she kept reading.

"Frozen? That new Disney movie?" Al asked, wondering why such a kid's movie was uploaded into Ziggy in the first place. "It's a kids movie. He'll be fine."

"Maybe if he were running with the last 8 billion lines of code we worked on! Ziggy just uploaded the personality profile into Sam's brain!"

"We gotta get you back in there!" Gooshie said, picking himself back up and typing like mad, trying to get Al back in the system.

"Back in? I don't even know what to look for! The only reason I agreed to go in is because I saw Aladdin and knew what Jafar looked like!"

"He's Queen Elsa. Look for a tall platinum blonde, stature like Barbie, wears velvet," then her faced fell again. "Oh wait, it's starting at the beginning? Um, still platinum blonde, but it'll be the only little blonde girl in the castle. Should be about eight."

"Oh great, he's going to be the sluttiest eight year old in history," Al grumbled under his breath. "If I need therapy, I'm billing you two."

"Yeah, well, we gotta get you back in there, fast," Donna said, as she and Gooshie rebuilt the assistant program again.

"What's the big deal? He's a kid. Worst thing is I find him naked under the covers, right?"

"Al, Elsa suffered a traumatic event, one that scarred her to her soul. Sam is reliving that right now! And because he built Ziggy to replay movies as realistic events, he's going to relive the thirteen years she spent being emotionally repressed, nigh on physically and emotionally abused, not to mention what Ziggy might do to his brain along the way!"

"Gee," Al said, relaxing back in the bed. "How long till I can go back in?"

"Thirty minutes?" she said, as they continued to work. "At least we have the chair built now."

"Poor Sam," Al said, hoping his friend was alright.

* * *

Episode 2

Elsa opened her eyes. She just had the worst dream. She dreamed she was a guy in a strange land and had just lain with his wife. She shivered, rolling herself over in the bedroom she shared with Anna, but she couldn't stop thinking of that dream. It was so real. She raised her arm to look at it in the Northern Lights, and briefly remembered her male arm, but with a shake of her head, her real, nearly hairless arm was all she saw. Well, that and the Northern Lights.

She lowered her arm, wrapping the blankets around her tighter. Then she felt the bed shift. She didn't have to look back to see Anna climbing onto her bed. Her little redheaded sister never could sleep when the sky itself glowed bright.

"Anna, go back to sleep," she said, knowing her sister wouldn't listen. Not right away at least.

"I just can't," she said, flopping on Elsa's body. "The sky's awake, so I'm awake, so we have to play!"

"Go play by yourself," Elsa said, then suddenly imagined her sister laying on her bed, her bed clothes raised to her waist while her hands touched her sinfully. Elsa shivered as she forced the image out of her head. To imagine such filth was sinful, so why did she do it?

"Do you want to build a snowman?" Anna whispered in her ear.

That made Elsa smile as she mentally added 'in summer.' She threw back the covers and her and Anna put on their shoes. Elsa knew she didn't need protection from the snow and ice, but if she didn't do it, Anna wouldn't either. Once her feet had started to turn black because of the snow they were playing in was so cold. Her mama, Queen Iduna, had made her promise to try and keep Anna safe while they played. It was her duty as the elder sister.

So with shoes on, Anna practically dragged her to the ballroom, the largest room in the castle. The warm summer air blew freely through the room, but Elsa knew that wouldn't stop her from making Anna happy.

Once they were in the ballroom, Anna started chanting, "Do the magic! Do the magic!" She started to make a small glowing ball, wrapping each lower with more magic to make it glisten and shine with a warm light. "Ready?" Elsa asked, watching Anna smile and laugh as Elsa threw the glowing orb high in the air. The orb exploded near the ceiling and snow began falling throughout the ballroom. Raising her dress up past her knees, Elsa stomped her foot once against the parquet floor to change the warm air to cold as the room suddenly became a winter wonderland.

Anna sat in a small snowdrift as Elsa made the snowman, finding the sticks she kept hidden under the throne to use as arms. Once she had it made, she showed it to Anna, getting in behind it speak, "Hi, I'm Olaf and I like warm hugs!"

She watched as her sister jumped up and hugged the snowman, saying "I love you, Olaf!"

She loved making her sister smile. There was nothing more satisfying than seeing the young girl smile and laugh as she seemed to light up a room. Soon she was propelling Anna and Olaf around the room with her magic, which Anna used to 'dance' with the snowman. After that, they slid down a snowbank. While Elsa rested, Anna was so wound up, she bounded up another, jumping once she reached the top. Elsa jumped to her feet, using her magic to create another snow drift. Anna squealed happily, bounding again and again.

Elsa quickly realized she was going to fast. "Anna, slow down!" she yelled, but it was too late. Anna jumped again, and then her foot slipped, causing her to fall backwards. She reached out with a hand, trying to will a slide or something to appear, but the magic left her hand unfocused and like an arrow headed straight for a falling Anna. Elsa watched in slow motion as the magical projectile struck her sister in the head, and Anna's limp body rolls down a snowbank, coming to lie with her limbs at unnatural angles. She scrambled over to where Anna lay, and a torrent of thoughts went right through her mind in an instant.

'Don't move her, you might paralyze her. Pick her up, she might be cold. Mother and Father will be so mad.' It was the last one that made her start crying, 'I don't have a sister.'

Elsa forced the conflicting thoughts out of her mind. Anna was her sister. She had injured her, and she would pick her up and hold her because she loved her.

She picked the little girl up, holding her in her arms and started to cry harder. It wasn't until a lock of her hair turned white that Elsa knew she had to face facts and call for help. "Mama! Papa!" It didn't take long for the king and queen to enter the ballroom, though they both gasped at the site of the winter wonderland she had made, it was the sight of the injured princess that made both of them freeze in terror.

"Elsa, this is getting out of hand!" he said, running over to the princesses. The queen picked up Anna, feeling the cold of her skin.

"She's as cold as ice!" she gasped, looking at the blond princess in fear. Elsa noticed, and shrank away. She couldn't help her powers. She'd had them for as long as she could remember, but this was the first time she had ever hurt anyone.

The king picked up the injured princess, examining her nearly lifeless body. "I know where we have to go. Take the children, meet me at the stables," he said, rushing to the door


	5. Bill Kyner 00

**Author's Note** : This was intended to be darker, but I've been somewhat talked into lightening it up a bit. So instead of following what outlaw's would do in real life, I'm going to limit their crimes to what you'd see or hear described in movies. Otherwise, this could go south faster Dan Fielding.

* * *

PS: If you don't know Dan Fielding, look up Night Court

* * *

Bill Kyner

American Outlaw

Summary

Bill Kyner is skilled gun handler, though he's only 18 years old. Already a widower, he abandons the law as a worthless bygone and learns to embrace a lawless life. His mentor is a highly wanted outlaw, and along with his deadly band, they become some of the most prolific killers in the Old West.

Prologue

Bill Kyner couldn't stop himself from crying as he dug the grave. Four years she had been by his side. Four years they had built a home with their blood, sweat and tears had come to this. A lonely grave on a hill next to some two bit town that wouldn't even be remembered by anyone but him. His family was gone, his life was over. All he had left was his guns, guns he had carried when he murdered the Indian tribe she had come from the day because he was tired of the endless fights.

It had taught him one thing, he wore his guns everywhere. He had plowed the fields since he was five carrying an old navy thirty-six. He had learned to get the gun out fast to shoot at startled rabbits and birds who fled out from under his ox. He learned to be accurate as well as a matter of survival, learning to snap one shot off at a fleeing rabbit to catch it in the head. He was deadly with his guns, so deadly that he could even kill deer with his pistols by shooting them in the eye as they ran. He rarely needed a rifle, unless he was making a long shot, having always used his pistols.

But now, here he was, head deep in a hole, burying the girl who had come to him since the first night she spent under a white man's roof. He never understood why she chose him. Why she crawled into bed with him instead of trying to flee he'll never know, but he knew she had been loyal to him. Even when more Indians had shown up a couple of years later, she chose him instead of leaving. He admired her devotion, and in return she had born him a child. A child that unfortunately hadn't even been born before she had died.

For Bill, it was too much. He had never cried before, but the tears flowed down his face now. He had spent his entire life in the rough and tumble prairie, but nothing had made him cry. Even seeing the smoke rise from his parents place hadn't made the tears flow, but now they did.

As he looked the square hole, he decided it was a good grave. Reaching up, he pulled her body to him, cradling her as he laid her to rest. He settled her in, making her comfortable so she'd be at peace. He paused, to take one last look at her in the brown dress that was her favorite. She had been used bad, that much he knew, and had been stabbed multiple times in the stomach and chest. The doctor had taken one look at her wounds and shook his head.

"There ain't nothin' can be done for her," he had told Bill. "Take her somewhere peaceful, and let her pass."

Bill had cursed the old doctor to hell and back for refusing to try and treat his Indian wife. Over the course of three days, he had held her as she had wheezed, coughing up a pink froth. Last night, she had looked at him, and whispered in his ear.

"Oh snee(It is cold) **," she whispered. "Ah snee wa keyn ktay(I am going to rest). Doka ake waunkte I will see you againImplied in spirit world). I...love you."**

 **That had been the last words she would ever say, as she had died right after. Bill had held her, refusing to let her be alone in the night, then dug her grave the next morning. Now, as he crawled out, he began shoveling the dirt over her, sealing her away forever. He hated the people who did this, but he was beginning to hate the doctor more.**

 **Who would bring his wife** **'** **s** **killers to justice?**


	6. Avengers: Ice Queen 01

Avengers: Ice Queen

Chapter 1

Elsa pulled at the turquoise colored jacket of her skirt suit so that it lay flat over her skirt. More of a nervous tick than a needed alteration. She had just transferred to Avenger's Tower from Stark Industries Headquarters in Los Angeles. She was technically supposed to be his new assistant, but according to the CEO, Pepper Potts, she would be mostly taking out the 'trash' and dealing with Mister Stark's quirky personality traits and for the love of all that was holy, keep him out of the media's eye to the best of her ability.

So where was she? Still picking up the leftovers from Mister Stark's party. The man really knew how to throw a party, and did so many of the nights they'd been in New York City. It certainly had changed a lot from when she first sat foot in it in 1852. First of all there was the Statue of Liberty sitting on Liberty Island. Second, there were taller buildings. Much, much much taller buildings. In fact, the tallest building then was a church. Now? The Avenger's Tower was pretty much the tallest structure in the city.

She drifted around the room, cleaning up the leftovers from Mister Stark's party, when she heard the laughter from upstairs. The Avengers, as they called themselves, were still going strong into the night. She expected such from Thor, the Norse god of Thunder, and from Mister Stark. Those two were known partiers who could go all night long drinking and making themselves merry. She wasn't sure about the rest, but maybe that was why things were winding down now, as they partied themselves into a stupor. It looked like Miss Hill was already passed out on the couch.

That was for the best, she'd seen enough parties in her years to know no party lasted forever. Not one. She had been born in the small kingdom of Arendelle, whose name now was only known to historians, old, old locals, and her. The year itself was 1817, with her coronation as queen taking place in July of 1839, when she was in her twenty first year. She hadn't aged a day since that night, her curse, as she liked to call it, keeping her young, fresh and vibrant. She was still the same five foot six, platinum blonde, blue eyed girl her sister had saved from beheading by Prince Hans of the Southern Isles.

Her curse was that she would keep watching her friends die of old age and sickness, just as she had watched Anna die not eight years later of influenza, what would be known today as the flue. She had sat with her younger sister, well aware of the risk that she might catch the deadly disease, but hadn't cared. Anna had lay in her bed, her body so wracked with coughing fits and shivering from an unstoppable chill that even laudanum couldn't dull her pain. It was then, as Anna lay panting, that she had asked Elsa to once again show her the magic.

Elsa hadn't wanted to, but knew it was probably going to be Anna's last request, so she'd conjured up a ball of shimmering light as she'd done when she was a kid and handed it to Anna. Anna cooed over the pretty light holding the ball with her hand where she could see it. Elsa wiped a tear from her face, when she heard a thump. She looked at her sister, whose eyes stared up at the ceiling though they saw nothing. Her hand had caused the thump when it fell lifeless to the bed.

Elsa eyes filled with tears as she wrapped her sister's lifeless body in the bedding she had died in, before calling the guards to carry her downstairs to a waiting coffin. It had been the last time anyone saw Anna's face, as she had to be interred immediately to help stem the deadly disease. Hundreds died in Arendelle, but no one mourned more than her, to have to live forever alone. Unaging.

Kristoff had taken his and Anna's son into the mountains a year later, finding it too hard to remain in the castle. Elsa hated to watch him and the young child go, but knew it was for the best. After the influenza outbreak, the peasantry had gotten embittered by what was seen as the entitlements of the royal families, who had top doctors and the best care that could be provided while many were forced to work sick because they were unable to take a day off.

The Storting, the elected council she had started to help mediate the day-to-day affairs of the kingdom to allow her more time with family became her enemy. Many of the members of the Storting were as entitled as royalty, being heads of large corporations and fishing operations, but they were able to fool and lead the masses against her, even as she lowered taxes and provided as much aid and assistance to her people as she could.

So, her kingdom had been turned over to the Storting in 1851 to free the peasantry from 'Royal oppression.' She had granted them everything in the Royal Treasury, packing her personal affects and a few family heirlooms and left the palace behind as she set sail on a ship bound for America. Now, nothing was left of the former kingdom except for a memory she shared with no one. The Storting had become so corrupt that they had fallen apart and been unceremoniously absorbed by Norway within a few short years.

Her only blessing was that she hadn't lost control of her ice powers since the night of her coronation. So she'd drifted like a snowflake on the breeze, year after year, hiding herself on the North American Continent. Right now, she was just Elsa Winters, a young twenty-three year old former waitress whose parents were dead, no living family, and a lonely apartment within the tower she'd been allowed to decorate herself.

She climbed the steps where the Avengers were gathered around the couches, while she gathered trash and cleaned. It was remarkably cleaner up here, and she placed the trash into the bins, most of it being empty bottles, and Chinese take-out cups.

"Only someone worthy of the power of Thor can lift Mjolnir," Thor told them. Elsa could see the group now; Maria Hill, Natalie Rushman, whom they called Natasha, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson, Doctor Banner, Colonel Rhodes, Mister Stark, and a woman she didn't know.

"Whatever man, It's a trick!" Barton shouted from where the group was gathered.

"Please, be my guest," Thor offered, gesturing to his hammer and where it sat on the coffee table.

"Really," Barton scoffed, which got a prompt 'yeah' from Thor.

Barton got up, moving to stand by mighty Mjolnir, when he got heckled by Mister Stark. "Clint, you had a tough week. We won't hold it against you if you can't get up."

"You know I seen this before," Barton told Thor, as he placed his hand on Mjolnir. Thor nodded, and with a grunt, Barton strained to move the mighty hammer. Finally, Barton was forced to laugh and asked Thor, "How do you do it?"

"No phallic judgment?" Stark asked.

"Please, Stark, by all means," Barton offered. Stark rose to his feet in his suit, while he was getting silently heckled by the guests.

"Never one to shrink from a challenge," he said as he looped the hammers thong around his wrist. "If I lift it, I get to rule Asgard?"

"Yes, of course," Thor said, leaning back in his spot to watch the fun.

"I will be re-instituting Prima Nocta," he said, bracing his leg against the coffee table and heaving on the hammer. Elsa scoffed at his idea of instituting Prima Nocta, the old practice of taking new brides to a nobles bed on their wedding night was never popular among the peasantry, and a good way of getting poisoned. Finally he quit after a few attempts and said be right back, then rushed to get the gauntlet from his Iron Man suit. He tried using the rockets on the gauntlet to help, and even with Colonel Rhodes help couldn't lift the hammer. "Just represent, pull!"

Doctor Banner was the next to try, getting fully on top of the table before grasping the handle and grunting heavily before turning it into a joke as he pretended to Hulk out. Elsa was initially startled by it, but kept on cleaning. She knew the other Avengers would not let him harm anyone, but she still didn't think it was funny.

Steve Rogers was the next one to try, and he didn't appear to have any success either as the others heckled him. Natalie was offered a try, but she just leaned back and sipped her beer, saying it wasn't a question she wanted answered.

"Miss," Thor asked Elsa as she drifted close to pick up a fresh round of bottles the group had left during their fun, "Would you care to try?"

The question itself stunned Elsa, who nodded mildly as she stepped around the Norse god to put her small alabaster hand on the leather wrapping of the handle. She felt uneasy, and only pulled because she had been asked to. It was to her amazement, in the silence that followed, she lifted Mjolnir from the table and held it up.

"Well, I'll be," Stark said across from her.

Elsa could feel the power building within her, and in a moment of fear, turned and handed the hammer to Thor. "Um, I believe this belongs to you, milord," she said, a hint of her old world manners and accent returning as she placed the hammer back in the hands of its true owner.

"Thank you," Thor said, as Elsa busied herself with returning to her duties.

"What makes her so special?" Stark asked, and Elsa almost rushed from the large room in fear, not paying any more attention to the group.

"I don't know," Natasha said, sipping the last of her beer. "But I am going to find out."


	7. Avengers Ice Queen 02

Chapter 02

Elsa hurried down the stairs, almost moaning in frustration as several of Mister Stark's Iron Legion climbed the stairs towards her.

"Pardon me," she said, as she tried to continue down the stairs. The Iron Legionnaire grabbed her by the arms, twirling her around and attempted to crush her in its powerful embrace. It was the one thing Elsa knew she could escape from, and placed her hands on the Legionnaire's arms and sent a powerful chill through the metal. Soon, the arms snapped under their own internal pressure and Elsa tumbled free.

"Override! I'm a friendly!" she yelled, even as a the sounds of a fight seem to break out above her. She didn't have time to think as another Legionnaire raised a hand, it's repulsor charging to fire. Elsa threw up a shield wall to block the blast, then threw an ice spike through that Legionnaire's chest piece when it fired on the ice wall and shattered it. A third Legionnaire began to raise its hands, but Elsa raised her hand and froze the robot from within, the cold becoming so deep that the metal stressed itself past the breaking point to shatter and fall like shattered tempered glass to the floor.

With no other hostiles in sight, Elsa rushed down the stairs to the floor her room was located on, and locked herself inside the apartment. She quickly went to her laptop, flipping open the screen and pulled up her email account. Scrolling through the list, she found the name she wanted. Anna Arendelle. Though her sister was long dead, the name was actually used by another acquaintance of hers. One who wished the world to remain ignorant of his living status after an attempt on his life a year ago. That person was former the SHIELD director Nick Fury.

Fury had conceived of using the fake name as a way for her to check in with him discreetly to allow her to carry out her task of keeping up with Mister Stark. The man often lacked any sense of discretion, especially after announcing he was a super hero on national news. He was a grand stander, and it was her job to curtail it as much as possible.

Not that anyone could, but she did try. Often, she misdirected news reporters with inaccurate times and locations to meet with the billionaire playboy, so she could usher him out another door to a waiting car or to one of his many suits. That was even if he left his lab or wasn't on a mission with the Avengers.

Elsa quickly drafted the message she wanted to send.

"Dear Anna,

Still having difficulty keep Mister Stark's quirky behavior under control, but to date, no mishaps have occurred. I will continue as long as I am able, but recent events bear an immediate report. At an after battle party, Thor challenged the group to try and lift his hammer, Mjolnir. None succeeded, but then as I was close by attending my duties, Thor asked me to try and lift it.

I know it was stupid, and I should have come up with any of a myriad of excuses that as a lowly servant I shouldn't even attempt it, but I was too in awe of being in the presence of one of the gods of old. Here's the problem, I lifted it, and Natalie, or Natasha, your agent who hired me as a long term backup to watch over Mister Stark, is going to investigate my past.

It's a little worrying that soon my secret will be exposed. I am only here at your behest, and am reporting that soon that cover may be blown wide open. Please advise. Until then, I'll be continuing in my duties.

Sincerely,

Elsa Winters."

She wanted to just hit send, but if anyone looked at this e-mail, it would seem suspicious, and that would annoy Director Fury. So she began to rewrite it as if she were talking to her sister. The report on Mister Stark was rewritten to be just another day in the office and that Mister Stark was his usual uncooperative self. Director Fury would understand that as he'd dealt with the man before. He was always grating, unless he wanted you for his bed, then he could be the most suave man in the world and able to charm an anaconda into releasing its prey.

The part with Thor was more difficult. She finally settled on calling Thor the really old man who was rather picky who handled his pen, and that she had accidentally handled it, and was worried it might cause problems later on with his 'clique of friends.' The last paragraph was merged into the second, that she was worried his 'friends' might stir up problems against her and that her status as Mister Stark's personal assistant might not protect her. She finally just omitted any reference to Natasha, and just left it as the 'old man's friends' and knew Director Fury would know whom she was referring to. She looked the short email over, finally hitting send as she was satisfied that any reference to it being a report was gone. Just another letter to an old friend venting frustration and worry.

She got up from her desk, and pulled her sterling silver tea set from it's cabinet and set the water to heating in a kettle on the stove. She lifted the lid on the tea pot, scooping out several scoops of her herbal tea from its box into the strainer in the mouth of the tea pot. The water soon reached boiling, and she filled the pot with the hot boiling liquid, then replaced the lid on the tea pot. She then partially filled the creamer pot with fresh cream from the refrigerator then took the serving tray into her sitting area and placed it on her antique coffee table.

As she sat in her chair, she couldn't help but be glad for the smaller comforts of living. She poured herself a cup of tea, with cream and sugar, and waited. She didn't know how long she'd have to wait for Natasha to come looking for her, but she would wait. The tea was good on her nerves, and soon she had steadied herself for what was to come.

Her phone chirped after thirty minutes, telling her she had an email. The sender was listed as Anna Arendelle, and that gave Elsa pause. Director Fury was rarely so fast in responding. She opened the email and read.

"Dear Elsa.

I hear ya on the bosses problems. I remember my own encounter and know you will survive. Just sweep the trash under the rug, and show the skanks the door like Pepper used to.

As for the old man? Well, some people get picky on how their pen is used. I wouldn't worry too much. If anyone asks, just be truthful about yourself and leave the skeletons in the closet unless they find them. We all have them. Some more than others.

You want worry? How about coming over here and dealing with my issues? I'm supposed to throw a gala ball next month and I haven't even gotten past the guest of honor on the invite list, not to mention the caterers, and the equipment rentals and lets not forget the menu. I'd choose your simple life any day.

But we all have our roles to play. Hang in there girl, and enjoy the tea. I hear it's relaxing.

Always watching,

Anna Arendelle."

Elsa sat her cup aside as she read the last line of the email. How did Director Fury know about her drinking tea? The man must be the most able secret agent in the world, or he just assumed she was drinking tea after her nerve wracking experience.

She poured herself a fresh cup of tea as she debated that question.


	8. Down Periscope 2 - 01

Chapter 01

03 May 1996

1445 Zulu

Naval Station Norfolk

"Gentleman, I wish to call into doubt the validity of the war games held June of last year. I know we thought we were covered against terrorist attack via diesel submarine until Commander Dodge proved otherwise, but I think we stacked the deck against ourselves. Commander Dodge is a very capable and skilled submariner, and his entire crew, if a little odd, is entirely top notch. His sonar operator alone is more capable than the computer who's supposed to assist him."

That was news to Winslow. He thought the deck had been stacked against Dodge. "What are you suggesting?"

"We do the war games over again. This time, with a captain and crew commiserate with one that has never served in a submarine before."

Winslow almost smiled at that one. "You mean, you want to turn a crew of trainees loose in a diesel sub, to fight trained nukes."

"Trainees would even be more trained then some of the submarine forces we've seen in Middle Eastern nations," Rear Admiral Horst said, "To get an accurate idea of what would happen if say Iraq sent one at us, we'd have to find willing sailors and officers to hop in a can and play submarine."

"Even if we sent in untrained men, who's going to be the captain? Any man qualified to sail a submarine is already in the Submarine Service," said Winslow. He knew every qualified individual, and the double handful of potential captains in the Atlantic.

"So, let's make it a woman," Said Rear Admiral Thatch. "Graham was kind enough to sponsor the pilot program to put a woman on a sub. Let's put a female captain in charge of the diesel sub."

"No captain, regardless of sex, is going to give up their boat," Horst said. "We'd have to get another Lieutenant Commander willing to perform the war game."

"And again, there are no guys we can tap for this," Thatch said. "I think we need to consider an all female crew."

"Female?" Winslow said.

"It would give us a chance to test the capabilities of the nuclear navy against a diesel. Also, to test that an all female crew is possible," Thatch said. "This would be killing two birds with one proverbial stone."

Winslow turned away from his fellow admirals. This was getting out of hand, and he needed to get a hold of this situation. The question was, how did he turn this to his advantage.

"I was just thinking, allowing a crew of untrained women loose along the Atlantic seaboard is going to be a big liability for the US Navy." Admiral Bryce wasn't willing to go that one over with the JAG, or the Judge Advocate General.

"Gentleman, we're getting ahead of ourselves, here," Winslow said. He had to take control. "First, we'd have to find a crew of seventy girls willing to even climb into a sub. The Submarine Service has and always will be volunteer. Second, we need a female Lieutenant Commander to take charge. Preferably one who is also willing, although we might have to make some concessions for advancement if she succeeds."

"If," Graham stated.

"Yancy, you are ordered here and now, NOT to partake, alter or otherwise change the nature or outcome of these games," Winslow stated.

"Yes, sir," Graham acknowledged.

"Now, to break these games down, so that NO ONE can influence their outcome. As COMSUBLANT, it is my duty to oversea all submarine commanders. So I will pick the commander for this operation. I believe I have been given the factors I will have to take into account to make sure we get a green captain. She must be a Lieutenant Commander, with no direct knowledge of submarines, wholly untrained in life in a can. She must also be willing to climb into a submarine."

"I think we can all agree to that," Graham said.

"Good. To make sure that we have an equally untrained crew, once again, Admiral Graham will pick a crew. My advice, is to comb through the Naval Submarine School's application files for eligible candidates. Otherwise, we may need to just bring in a bunch of candidates, and hope there are some interested in a little jaunt to Charleston and back."

"Who's going to go against her?" Said Admiral Bryce.

"The Orlando is still in the area but Knox might be too easy. Too bad the Seawolf is still under construction, though I think pitting Dodge against her would be unfair to her," said Admiral Graham.

"Admirals, please. We'll use the Dallas. It's currently running the pickets near New Jersey. We need a fresh start on this," said Admiral Winslow

"And that just leaves the Stingray. It's still docked here at Norfolk, ready to accept and commence exercises as soon as we have a crew," said Admiral Bryce.

"Any other business on this matter?" said Admiral Winslow. The other Admirals shook their heads. "Then, we have our war games."

-o-0-o-

06 May 1996

1145 Zulu

DD Harry Kim, middle of the Atlantic Ocean

Tara Ford awoke to her alarm, as usual. Turning over, she slaps the off switch then gets up and starts her day. Its the same old pattern, she knows. A real rut. At 1145 Zulu, get up, run three miles, stretch, shower, find coffee, and start mitigating crew complaints. Usually by 1300 she was in the Combat Information Center, or CIC, with Captain Hoffman, complaints in hand for the captain to dole out punishments as needed. She really was beginning to hate the Navy.

As she ran, she thought back to why she joined. Her granddad had been a submariner, making it to executive officer before he was injured in a fire in the galley. He had come home broken, missing the sea. It was that devotion that made her take to the sea with him in their little forty foot yacht. She loved the sea, but she was hating the Navy. Maybe that's why her dad stayed in the fishing business instead of going into the Navy.

She knew it wasn't anything specific to her, not really. No one was holding her back from advancing but herself. She just didn't have the zing to stand out. To make herself known as something more than just the executive officer on the Harry Kim. She also knew she was up for promotion again soon. It would be the third time since she'd made lieutenant commander and posted as XO. If she failed, she'd be given a desk job and essentially drummed out of the Navy under terrible postings and assignments.

After her run, and a quick shower, she headed down to the galley to check the crew's morale. It'd been good lately, since they'd left port in Rota, Spain. They'd managed to get a week's shore time as a faulty valve was repaired. Now, having been back out in the open sea for several weeks, moral was holding, which was good. As long as moral was up, she didn't have to try and settle petty disputes. With a good cup of coffee in hand, she entered the CIC.

"Captain Hoffman," she said by way of greeting.

"Commander," he replied, looking at a message just delivered by the radio operator. "Anything to report?"

"Morale is still good, no major complaints to report. Did have one issue with Ensign Parker. He wishes to complain about the lack of cereal choices aboard, again."

"Tell Parker that if wants cereal choices he needs to bring his own supply," the captain said, smirking at the all too familiar complaint from the ensign.

"Other than that, nothing to report this morning, sir," she said, as she began to check the display boards, making sure the ship was ship shape.

"Then join me in my wardroom, commander," the captain said, frowning. A helicopter was flying just off the port side, almost at a hover.

Ford followed her captain to his wardroom, who held the door open for her and shut and locked it. "I just got a comm from Admiral Winslow. He 'requests' your presence in Norfolk."

"Admiral Winslow? I've never heard of him," she said, wondering what the admiral wanted with her.

"I have, mostly by reputation and scuttlebutt. He's ComSubLant, Commander of the Submarine Fleet in the Atlantic."

"Submarine? But women don't serve aboard subs, sir. If they did, I'd be aboard one right now."

"Feel free to speak freely, commander. This has 'test' written all over it. Scuttlebutt was that a female Lieutenant was trained to be a Dive Officer on a submarine, some kind of test to see if a woman could serve. No one I know has heard of such a thing, directly, but word is she's been seen in Norfolk, and hasn't been to sea in almost a year."

"Be that as it may, sir, I doubt my career has made me noticeable by anyone other than close friends and family. I may be your XO, but I doubt my career will survive another year."

"Well, apparently it has. That chopper was for you. So whatever this admiral wants with you, he thinks you'll roll for him. And in my experience, an admiral expects you to roll, you roll."

Ford thought on that. "I'm not being reassigned, as far as you know?"

"No, and frankly I don't want another XO. You've been good with the crew, kept morale up and seem to know everyone aboard. That's a good quality in both an XO and a captain. This may be nothing more than a simple training exercise or asking you to volunteer for something risky. It could put the zing into your career, and get you that promotion and your own boat."

"Time to roll the dice then," she said, the not knowing making it hard to decide.

"Life's a gamble, commander. But sometimes, you just have to use loaded dice."

-o-0-o-

06 May 1996

1945 Zulu

Naval Station Norfolk

Lt. Commander Ford walked into a small office, with a young lieutenant sitting at a desk sorting paperwork. "I'm here to see Vice Admiral Winslow?"

"He's expecting you commander," he said, motioning to the door.

She walked in, to find the Admiral sitting at his own desk, dressed in dress whites. She felt under dressed in her khakis, but she did just come off her boat and come straight here. "Lieutenant Commander Tara Ford, reporting as requested, sir," she said, coming to attention and saluting the admiral.

"Sit down, Ford," he said, voice deep and gruff. "How much do you know about submarines?"

"A little bit, sir. My granddad used to tell me stories when I was younger."

"Ever been on one of the old diesel's like he used to sail?"

"The old sugar boats? No, sir. He did take me to the Lionfish in Massachusettes, once. Said if he had a boat that fancy, he would have given the Kriegsmarine a run for their money earlier in the war."

"Ever thought about being a submariner?"

Here it goes, she thought. "Yes sir. I was just a little girl when he took me the Lionfish, but I've always wanted to sail on a sub. Imagine my delight when I found out the Navy wasn't keen on changing the rules to allow women on subs."

She watched the admiral frown. "True in the past, but political winds are changing, commander. Lieutenant Lake is currently stationed on the Seawolf, a new class of fast attack that we launched last year. What we've been considering is sending a sub full of women to sea during a war game, just a quick test of the feasibility of a diesel being able to breach the pickets and attack commercial shipping here in the States."

Ford was sure her jaw hit the floor. A full crew of women set loose in a diesel sub? Did any of them have the training to actually operate one? "A diesel against a..." she stammered, it was mind blowing, really. "Does the Navy even have enough women to operate a sub?"

"No, we don't. And that's a problem for all concerned. We're currently assembling volunteers, but finding candidates hasn't been easy."

Ford considered her options. "This is a fully functioning sub, right? We'll be allowed to dive and maneuver?"

"Yes, but unlike our last war games, you will not be firing live torpedoes. You will surface and launch green flares to simulate torpedo launches."

Ford smiled softly. It was a dream come true. "It would be an honor, sir. Who's going to be my captain?"

The admiral frowned a bit, then smiled. "Commander, I'm looking at her."

It was a good thing she was sitting, she might have actually fallen over. "Me sir? Your going to trust this entire operation to me?"

The admiral leaned forward, pulling several pictures from between a book and offered them to her. "These are pictures of Russian subs, their old diesels at berth in Petropavlovsk and Vladivostok. The Russians have been selling to countries in the middle east, like Iraq, Iran. Countries that don't like us. We've been testing our ability to detect and intercept these threats, and last year we were proved inadequate. Commander Dodge took the Stingray out, invaded Charleston harbor with it, slipped it right over a Los Angeles class fast attack. Then he goes up to our blockade here at Norfolk. We caught him trying to sneak in, but he evaded us and made it out to open sea. When he came back, he slipped right through our blockade and active sonar. He was good. Too good, apparently. We are now going to hold the games again, and this time, we want an inexperienced captain to try."

"So, how do you simulate capture or destruction of another, older sub?"

"The attacking sub has to acquire a shooting solution. It's like a missile lock, but for torpedoes. Once they are certain, they will call you via radio, telling you you are targeted. Straightforward, you acknowledge the transmission, and you are simulated sunk. This won't be easy. The captain you will be facing will almost certainly figure out that a diesel will be invading, and that means that you will have to rely on cunning to win."

Ford sat there, pondering the options. She was going, she wasn't going to lie. But she was wondering how this Dodge had gotten over and past a nuke. That wasn't easy, the advancements alone gave them an edge. A smile played over her lips, advancements also made them more susceptible to errors and blindspots. Made them overconfident. A story her granddad told her came to mind. Charleston was easy, if it worked with the newer diesel. But would it work.

"Admiral, I accept your offer."


	9. Talespin Movie 2 Ending

**Author's Note: In this version, meant to be a human retelling of Talespin set around 1938-1939, the Iron Vulture is now the worlds first aircraft carrier, built right at the end of WW1 and abandoned, but found and rescued by Pirate Don Karnage, who uses it like its TV counterpart as a base for his piracy. The series takes place in California, with Baloo running freight to the Pacific Islands, Russia, and Japan.**

 **The premise was changed, as no cargo plane can out-turn a fighter, let alone out do it in aerial maneuvers, so the name of the game is now speed. The Sea Duck is the FASTEST plane, using a pair of turbo-prop engines to achieve speeds of three hundred mph, while most planes can barely get over 250 mph. Karnage finally catches Baloo because he was arguing with Rebecca Cunningham, and is forced to land on the Iron Vulture, with a deck too short to fly off of. With child hostages, Don Karnage wants to use them as a human shield so he can raid the California coast, but Baloo decides he won't let that happen.**

 **Cue story.**

Talespin Idea = Ending Part 2

"Run!" Baloo yelled, as he decked Dumptruck with the pipe. The Sea Duck sat on the end of the runway, tied with only two ropes. Rebecca ran up the ramp, Baloo following right behind her. Baloo paused only long enough to yank the control down to start the doors to close before running for the cockpit. As he sat in the pilot's chair, he saw the door on the side of the Iron Vulture's tower open, Karnage leading some if his pirates. Baloo wasted no time in flipping the main switch covers open with a finger, then flipping the switches as he brought his hand back.

"Baloo, they're coming!" Rebecca screamed. Baloo didn't even bother to look up. With one hand, he reached down and primed the number one engine, then used his left to hit the starter as he his right continued to hold the primer. The left engine came to life, and he quickly started the primer on the second engine as he shoved the throttle open on the first. The moment he hit the starter, he felt the familiar drone of the Duck as she came fully to life. Looking out the forward window, Karnage was yelling at his men, who were readying their guns. Shoving the second throttle open, the Duck started to roll past Karnage.

"Baloo, I thought you said we couldn't take off on this short runway?" Rebecca said, her face pale from the close call.

"The Duck is a seaplane, Beckers. We don't have to fly off, just don't hit the tail boons on the way down," he said, trying to keep cool as the Duck crept past forty. He needed it to get over seventy to fly, but he could coast on forty. But if he didn't keep the tail section intact, it'd be a short flight.

The Duck rolled off the edge of the Vulture's runway, and into the sky. Thankfully, Baloo thought, she didn't hit the boons and he settled her into the water where she finally clawed her way to seventy and back into the sky. Using the mirror beside his side window, he saw the pirates prepping the new plane of Karnage. 'If it's as fast as they say, I'm a dead man.'

He started to prep the overdrive system. He was quickly running out of time, and he knew it. After several seconds, he heard the engine's roar increase in pitch, and the speedometer told him he chances of surviving might be getting into the double digits.

"Baloo? They're launching a plane after us," Rebecca said. "Are we going to be able to outrun it?"

"The Duck's been the fastest plane in the sky for years," Baloo said, forcing himself to be calm as he kept the Duck level at a thousand feet, the engines wide open. He had to prove to Karnage he couldn't be caught soon or so he'd give up and go back. If he climbed, he'd lose speed, and he HAD to outrun that new plane.

"Baloo, I think he's gaining!"

Baloo looked in his side mirror. Karnage was getting closer. He looked back at the speedometer. It was edging past three hundred already. The Duck didn't get much faster, and Karnage looked like he was going to catch him. Baloo pitched the yoke forward slightly, so the plane would gain speed like a car going downhill. It would work as long as he didn't run out of altitude. He just needed time. Another look in his mirror though, told him his time had run out. He could make out Karnage's blue and red coat he was getting so close. Fear sent a cold chill through him. Karnage could outrun the Duck. With his eyes glued to the mirror he saw Karnage line his sights up on them. Baloo closed his eyes. He'd lost. After twenty years in the air, he was going to get shot down.

"Baloo, he's firing on us!"

Baloo heard the pings of the bullets as they struck the Duck. He opened his eyes to take in one last time his beloved plane as she flew. At just a few hundred feet above the ocean, it happened. Karnage let loose another barrage of bullets, and the Duck roared in agony. The control yoke pitched violently in his hands, and the steady whine of the engines was replaced with the sound of tearing metal. As if in slow motion, the Duck began to roll to the right. Baloo tried to fight it, to keep it level, but the yoke was free in his hands. He saw the water rush to meet him, and then the world went black.

-o-0-o-

Karnage was laughing as he fired again into the Sea Duck. That bulbous pilot would not outrun his men anymore. The tracers showed him the path his bullets took as they struck the right engine, and his laughing became higher pitched as the cowling disintegrated in a fiery explosion. Serves that pompous overgrown buffoon for upstaging the great Don Karnage!

Staying a safe distance back, more to keep debris from damaging his shiny new aircraft, Karnage watched as the right wing slowly buckled as the engine housing burned. He never thought he'd see the sight before him, as the wing sheered off in flight, and the plane rolled in a death spiral. For years he had hunted this plane. For years he had been forced to watch it flee from his bullets, untouched. Now he had shot it down!

With the cursed plane in a death spiral just hundreds of feet over the ocean, Karnage banked around so he could watch the plane crash. He half expected Baloo to pull a rabbit out of his arse and right the plane, or pull off some miracle so many pilots spoke of in seedy ports. But in the end, like a sea captain of old, Baloo stayed with his plane even as it struck water and sent up a huge geyser.

Continuing to laugh, he found he needed someone to gloat over. The miserable runt and pint size brat will do nicely, he thought. Without waiting a moment longer, he headed back to his ship, the Iron Vulture. Practicing his gloat filled speech the entire way back, too wrapped up in his own world to see the Sea Duck bob back to the surface.

-o-0-o-

Kit watched from the observation deck as Baloo sped off with Ms. Cunningham. He was disappointed that Baloo hadn't saved them, but he knew Papa Bear wouldn't abandon him. Once the Sea Duck hit the edge of the runway, he had a brief moment of worry that the Duck was going to crash, but Papa Bear proved he was the best and sailed the Duck right off the shortest runway he'd ever seen. He knew Papa Bear was still alive because he could still hear the engine. He also heard Karnage yelling at his men to get his plane ready.

He looked back to the end of the runway, and saw the Sea Duck lifting into the sky. He smiled, Papa Bear was truly living up to his reputation. As long as he was in the sky, there was nothing he couldn't do. Once the Duck was out of sight, he used the mounted telescope to watch as Baloo raced away. Baloo had maybe a five minute head start before Karnage roared after him. Kit was good with engines, but the sound of Karnage's new plane made it look like Baloo was a goner.

"Kit, are mommie and Mr. Baloo going to be alright?"

"You bet, Molly," he said, trying to make his voice cheery. "Baloo is the best!"

Kit kept watching, but his heart sank as he realized the Karnage was catching up. Right at the edge of what the telescope could see, he watched Karnage shoot into the Sea Duck, as the right engine erupted in fire, and the right wing sheered off. Shock made it where he couldn't move, and he watched as the Sea Duck rolled over and plunge into the sea. Overcome with shock he sank to his knees, putting him at eye level with Molly. Tears already filled the little girl's eyes.

"Kit?"

Kit wrapped his arms around the little girl. He could feel her sobs as she began to figure out too young that she was an orphan now too. He vowed that he wouldn't let Karnage get away with this. He'd look out for Molly, if only for Ms. Cunningham. It was the least he could do.

-o-0-o-

Baloo became aware that his feet were wet first. When he tried to move his feet, that was when the pain shocked him awake. He opened his eyes, and winced. Too bright, he thought. Slowly he started to move his head around, and though his heart had already broke before he crashed, every new sight of his beloved plane added a hundred new cracks to the wounded instrument. The Sea Duck had crashed. Looking down, he saw why his feet were wet. Water was filling the inside of the cabin. The Duck was sinking.

"I'm sorry," he told his plane. For years the two had flown the skies together, and now it was over. His eyes spotted a patch of a pink sweater under the console, and it took him a few seconds to realize it was Beckers. "Oh, no. Beckers," He was too exhausted to shout anymore. He pulled himself out of his chair, and pulled his boss up to his chest. Blood seeped from a wound on her head, but she didn't look otherwise hurt. Cradling the petite brunette, he carried her through cabin to the rear hatch. With one hand he pulled out his inflatable raft, and activated the air canister causing the raft to quickly inflate. With a shove, he activated the never used emergency release on the hatch, and the rear hatch opened violently as the reserve tank forced the system open.

With the cabin no longer even half way sealed, the Sea Duck nosed head first underwater, and Baloo found all he had to do to get in the raft was kick back like the lazy day afternoon he longed for. With tears in his eyes, he watched his plane leave him, sinking out from underneath him as if it hated him for the way he landed. Unable to watch his best friend leave, he looked down at the one woman he cared for, the last person he once thought he would never call friend.

She had gambled everything she had on buying his plane, at starting her own freight moving company. Her life savings, her integrity, her future. She had lost it all because he wasn't good enough. And now, with nothing left to stop him, she was about to lose the last of her family. Karnage would try to raze Hawaii, using the kids as a human shield, but the military would have to accept their loss as casualties of war to prevent the plunder of the islands. Kit and Molly were as good as dead.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, then he took the pilot's cap he'd once been given by a friend of his and placed it on Rebecca's head, the only thing he had that wasn't already wet to try and keep her warm. Maybe it would be best if she didn't wake up, he thought. She shouldn't have to live without her daughter. He leaned back against the side of the raft, and settled himself. He knew he shouldn't try to sleep when he had just banged his head, but he no longer cared. He was tired, and life was no longer worth living without the people he cared being in it. With one last look around, he closed his eyes on the open stretch of water around him. With nothing in sight, he let the raft float along, silently praying that soon no living souls would be aboard it.

One way or another.


	10. Gods Be Damned 01

The Hollows/The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

Gods Be Damned

Prologue

Ivy walked up the front walk of her home. Any other night, her hips would have been sashaying in her high heeled stiletto boots. Tonight, though, she was limping home, not feeling sexy at all in her leather pants and tank top, especially after getting sick all over it. She didn't want to be here, but she was forced to walk for the door, whether she wanted to or not.

She stumbled on the first step, falling along the length of the steps as Piscary let his control of her slip. Tears leaked down her cheek, not from the pain of falling, but for what she was sent here to do. Piscary, her master vampire, the man whom she had looked to since before she started school, had just sealed her fate. She was dying of blood loss, and no doctor in the city would see her. Piscary would make sure of it.

No, she was sent here to die in the arms of her friend, Rachel Morgan. Piscary knew Rachel had developed feelings for Ivy over the few months they had lived together. Knew it was because of Rachel that Ivy had stopped being a 'proper vampire.' So he had devised a cruel way for Rachel to die at Ivy's hand. Ivy would die in Rachel's arms, in such a way that ensured she would rise again moments later as an undead vampire, and then in her hunger fueled state, would either dominate Rachel into submission, or rip Rachel's throat out.

Ivy heard the door to the church open, and her heart sank as she half hoped Rachel would have already been asleep so she wouldn't have heard Kisten dropping her off. Rachel helped Ivy to her feet, using her smaller frame to bolster Ivy's flagging strength. Ivy knew her time was coming, could feel her heart already skipping a beat at every second pump. Ivy opened her mouth to warn Rachel, but Piscary's influence on her kept her from forming words.

Inside the church, Ivy's failing strength finally caused her to fall, even as they were almost to the bathroom so she could wash the sick off her. She could feel it now, that she wasn't on holy ground. Her time was close. Rachel held her, her body heat doing nothing to warm her cooling skin. Ivy forced her body to lift her head, even as it took the last of her strength. With that one last act, her head lolled onto Rachel's shoulder, never to move under its own power while her heart still beat.

She could see Rachel's tears, her face as it scrunched up as she realized her friend was dying. Ivy wanted to comfort her, but Piscary still controlled her mind. She wouldn't be allowed to do anything until it was too late.

"Ivy, I'm sorry," Rachel whispered, as she held her close, her sobs as she cried for her dying friend wracking Ivy with every heave of her chest. Ivy felt one last tear slip down her cheek, as the world started to turn to black. It was time she knew. As a living vampire, she was cursed to turn into an undead when she died, just as soon as the vampire virus fixed the damage that caused her death. The only problem was, she was dying of a lack of blood, which the virus had one easy way to fix; to wake her back up so she could feed. It was a simple plan, and Ivy cursed every god and goddess for allowing vampires to exist at all. She couldn't stop what was to come, and prayed that if there was any way at all, she wouldn't come back and harm her best friend. She'd do anything.

But as that became the last thought in her mind, her body gave a sudden and violent heave. Rachel knew what that heave meant, as she had watched her father die in a grimy hospital room when she was barely in her teens. She hadn't been able to save him, even as he fought to stay alive. She could barely see as she pulled the phone from her pants pocket, and dialed the number Ivy had given her. She was supposed to call it if Ivy ever died so she could be taken to the morgue where they'd help her transition over. In five minutes, guaranteed, she would be taken away in a sunlight proof body bag. Until then, Rachel held her dead friend, and cried for her soul, wherever it had been sent.

Chapter 01

Time for an execution

Ivy awoke to find she was cold, which didn't surprise her, and that she was sore, which did. She opened her eyes to find a well built man with blond hair staring down at his hands. She started to upright herself, to find her arms were tied with some sort of rough rope. She was still weak, but she could feel her strength return. She looked up, and could see the sun shining bright through the overhead canopy, and at that she smiled.

She wasn't an undead. She couldn't be in the sunlight like this if she were undead. She was still alive, but she had no idea where she was. She looked down at the guy across from her. He was well built, no fat on him that she could see, and was wearing chain mail and leather armor. The man on her right was dressed in animal skins, bear she thought, and had a gag tied over his mouth while the guy in the other back corner was wearing ragged looking clothing that seemed to be made of wool. Made sense as she could feel the cold wind blow.

She looked down at her body, just as the guy across from her finally noticed she was up and moving. If she didn't know any better, she was in a cartload of criminals being taken to jail. She also noticed she was dressed in the clothes she had died in, though there was none of the sick on them.

"Hey, you're awake," the blonde guy said across from her.

"A little sore, but I'll live," Ivy replied. She started to take stock of her surroundings. She was in a rustic old wagon being pulled a single horse. The driver wore a leather armor set that was mirrored on the guards around the wagon. In front of the horses was another wagon, it was also loaded down with people in similar attire to the guy across from her. So, this was some kind of dispute between two people?

"Got caught in that Imperial ambush same as us? And that thief over there."

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I'd have stolen that horse and been half way to Hammerfell," he said to the blond guy. He then turned to Ivy, "You there, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Imperials want."

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."

"Shut up back there," the driver said, not paying them much attention

"What's up with him," Ivy said, motioning with her head to the gagged man beside her.

"That's Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king," the blonde guy said.

"What's your name then," Ivy said, noticing the man in the ragged clothes was in shock.

"I'm Ralof of Riverwood," he said.

"I'm Ivy Tamwood," she said, extending her hand in greeting. 'No reason not to play nice.'

"Ulfric? Jarl of Windhelm, you're the leader of the Rebellion?" the thief said, shock making his voice high. "But if they captured you? Oh gods, where are they taking us?"

Ralof shook his head. "I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits.

"No, this can't be happening."

"Hey, what village you from, horse thief?" Ralof asked.

Ivy watched the exchange, trying to figure out what was going on. It didn't take much to figure out with certainty that if Ulfric were the leader of the rebellion, they'd be taking him somewhere to either incarcerate him, or execute him. Considering the type of location, they'd likely go with execution, which just left her wondering that with her drastically different clothing, would they think she was with them.

She was just about to ask when they gates to a small town came in sight ahead of them. The wagons proceeded inside, and she one of the guys mounted an a horse stop and talk with three other people on horseback. It was worth noting because the three mounted on horseback were dark gray cloaks that hid everything but their faces. The one person in Imperial style armor also had a different style than the others, meaning he was important somehow.

"General Tullius," Ralof said, noticing her stare. "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him."

"Great," Ivy said sarcastically, as she looked at the street they were passing through. Children played by the buildings, stopping when they noticed the wagons passing. Ivy watched, sad that such a sad sight would have to happen in front of the innocent. One of the fathers came out and ordered his children back inside, though the child didn't want to go. Eventually he did, and that cleaned the children off the street. 'At least they wouldn't have to see men get killed.'

The wagons reached a large wall that blocked the road, and that's where they stopped. Ivy noticed that this was a dead end in more ways than one, as she spotted the large wooden block with a small notch big enough for a man's neck to fit into, and all the chips that had been made into the top of it. 'Looks like execution after all.'

Everyone started to get off the wagons, and Ivy waited at the back of the pack, dropping off the wagon when it was her turn to land on her toes before settling flat in her high heeled boots. The Imperial guard at the front started to call off names, and they were taken over to stand next to the block. When it was Ivy's turn, the guard looked at her, then at his list. He then looked at her again, taking in her completely different attire, then asked, "Who are you?"

"Ivy Tamwood, of Cincinnati. Do you mind telling me why I'm being detained with the Stormcloaks?"

"You were rounded up with the rest of the prisoners," the lady in heavy armor behind him said. "I don't know who stopped you, but you're either a Stormcloak, or a sympathizer."

"I'm neither. I'm new here from Cincinnati, Ohio. Do I even look the slightest bit like the rest of your prisoners?"

"Then how do you explain how you got caught in the roundup at the ambush sight?"

"I don't know. I was dying in my friend's arms," Ivy said, sad that she might never see Rachel again.

"If that's true, where's your friend? Or are they among the prisoners?"

Ivy stood tall, ready to try her strength to break free of the rope binding her arms. "I don't know where she's at. I just don't want her hurt on my behalf."

"Likely story," she said, before turning back to the man with the list. "She goes to the block. We'll end this rebellion once and for all."

"As you command," he said, rolling the list up. "To the block prisoner, nice and easy."

Ivy was in shock, but allowed herself to be pushed over where General Tullius was addressing Ulfric. Ivy hadn't caught any of it, too immersed in her fight with the woman in the heavy iron armor. A woman in brown robes stepped forward, and raised her arms.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the eight divines upon you," she started when a man on her right started forward.

"For the love of Talos, let's get this over with," he said, and Ivy watched as the man hit his knees and laid his head on the block. "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"

Ivy watched as the executioner, a large man in black armor and hood, raised his axe over the man and then brought it down with a sickening crunch. Ralof muttered a quick eulogy for his friend and then the man's body was kicked to the side.

"Next, the woman sympathizer," the captain ordered, pointing her sword right at Ivy.

"I'm not with them," Ivy shouted.

"I said, next prisoner," the woman said then nodded to two other soldiers behind Ivy. One of them was the man who had been reading the list, and he and the other grabbed her by the elbows and started to force her forward to the block. She tried to resist, but the two burly men were able to force her up to the block. Then, with her arms held down at her waist, they forced her over the block, her neck small in the notch to keep her secure. The female soldier placed her boot right in the middle of her back, holding her down, and she saw the executioner raise the axe.

Then it landed on top of the tower behind the executioner. A large, black dragon that was bigger than a house, had landed there. Everyone, including the executioner had turned to face the monster, then it opened its maw, and a pulse of power knocked everyone off their feet. Ivy rolled free of the executioner's block, using the adrenaline to rip through the ropes binding her.

Rolling to her feet, she saw the dragon lift its head and shout to the sky, causing meteors to fall from the sky, then launch itself back into the air, as soldiers, prisoners and townspeople all ran in varying directions. Ivy watched as soldiers killed fleeing prisoners as they ran past, as guards along the walls and in the battlements began to fire arrows at the flying monster.

"Hey, Ivy," Ralof called to her. "Come on! The gods won't give us another chance."

Ivy then ran over to Ralof, and he led her inside a tower. Once inside, another of the Stormcloak soldiers shut the door behind them. Ivy could see that there were maybe three other soldiers here beside Ulfric, who began speaking when asked about the dragon.

"Legends don't burn down villages," he said, as a sudden boom shook the tower. Ivy looked up in time to see a large section of wall bow in. As she watched, another boom shook the tower, and the bowed in section fell free of the wall around it. Several pieces fell at the door, blocking it. The dragon then stuck his head in, and let loose a jet of flame that poured down the wall. Ivy ran up the stairs that jutted out from the wall to get away from the fire.

When the dragon left off with the fire, Ivy crept cautiously to the hole. She planned to jump down and get out, but there was a thatched roof right next to the tower. She jumped over to the roof, which couldn't support her slight weight, and she fell through. Landing with a cat's skill on her feet, she noticed she was in the loft of a cabin built with logs. The other end was half destroyed, and she ran to it and jumped down. A dead guard sat slumped against the hut. Ivy swiped his belt and sword, figuring she'd need it later.

"Haming, get over here!" A soldier near her shouted, just as the dragon landed right in front of a little boy. The dragon opened its maw, ready to release another gout of flame, and every soldier ducked behind cover leaving the boy to die. Ivy sprinted past the cowering men, tackling the boy and rolling under the dragons head just as it released its deadly flame. Ivy held the boy close, then watched as the dragon ended its flame and took flight.

She eyed the guards, who stood slack jawed at the sight of her protecting the boy, and she rolled to her feet, eyed her surroundings, then took off down an alleyway. She came out out near the gate, then took off across the clearing. Pure adrenaline kept her moving as soldiers shouted orders to duck as the dragon roared overhead. With nowhere else to go, Ivy jumped when she was close enough, and using the point of her heeled boots, ran up the wall and jumped over it.

Free of the town, Ivy kept up her sprint and headed straight for the trees. She sprinted now mostly because it kept her on her toes and off her heels, but also because in the open she was an easy target for the dragon. Once in the trees, she ran for a minute more before stopping to catch her breath.

She didn't like having to come up with a plan on the fly, as that was Rachel's preferred way. One of Rachel's last runs involved a lot of running, after stealing the wrong fish from a high ranking alpha Were. She'd taken the fish and ran, and with no backup, had nearly gotten herself shot and caught. Only luck and the fact she jumped off the roof of a building and survived had kept her from being caught. After that, the Weres tracked her down and only the fact the a federal agent had picked her up kept her safe then.

Ivy shook her head, wondering if Rachel would survive on her own. Without Ivy being there to protect her, Rachel's unclaimed vampire bite left her susceptible to being easily influenced. Only Ivy's unofficial claim made the living and the undead leave her alone, or risk dying twice by either her hand, or by Piscary's. The witch didn't realize how vulnerable she was.

She started to move through the forest, figuring she was moving north. There was nothing left to do, she felt. She didn't know where she was, where the town was, who was in charge, or what the laws even were. Also, what was the local vampire population doing? Were they even the same here?

It didn't matter, she figured. She'd learn soon what was going on in this world. She kept moving north, being careful not to break her heels on the rough terrain. It took the better part of an hour for her to come out on a road, and she followed it north.


	11. Death Becomes Her 01

Frozen

Death Becomes Her

Chapter 1 – May 23, 1836

Dark clouds scudded across a darker sky as lightning flashed through the heavens. The rain slashed down like a knife, hissing endlessly into a wine-dark sea. The wind howled mercilessly, whipping up waves into towering hills that briefly dwarfed the vessel caught between them before cresting to fall. Sailors crawled through the ship's rigging, fighting to keep the ship from rolling and sinking into oblivion.

A woman stood by the railing, her fingers clinched around it so tightly the knuckles showed white. She stared out into the storm, flinching with each crash of thunder, each wave that doused her. She continued her stare, as if she could see something on the far horizon, though the darkness made that impossible, and the flashes of lightening were too brief to illuminate anything for long.

"Idun, my dear, we really should take shelter below decks. I don't like the look of these waves. That last one nearly reached the railing."

Another wave formed alongside the ship, tossing it on its side. Idun's grip kept her from being tossed onto the deck, forcing Agdar briefly to wrap an arm over the side of the railing.

The queen turned and looked up at her husband, and gave him a wan smile. "I think I would be more afraid down there, trapped, unable to see what was happening," she said, shaking her head. "No, I couldn't wait down there, hearing every groan of the timbers, and never knowing if that were to be my end or not."

"Don't speak like that my dear, even in jest," Agdar murmured. He looked around quickly, seeing the crew as they wrestled the sails and ropes. "You know what a suspicious lot sailors are. I had to speak quite sharply to some just this morning, who were complaining about a woman being on board."

"Because it brings bad luck?" Idun asked, barely suppressing an unregal snort. "I can think of a dozen better reasons why ladies should not be on board ships, and this lady on this ship in particular. Do you know how long it's been since I had a decent bath? With hot water? And my chignon is a complete mess!"

"Rigors of trade deals, my dear," Agdar said, smoothing his wet hair back. "Arendelle needs an outlet for her goods, and our deal with the Danes needs to be renegotiated."

"Still, is it worth this?

"This storm is just unexpected, my dear."

Another wave tossed the frigate, temporarily halting any more conversation which caused a sailor to stumble. He caught himself on the railing before falling into the darkened sea, and he locked eyes with Idun. As he got his feet under him, he turned his head and spat over the railing before he went back to tending the rigging.

Idun started to say something about the disrespect the sailor had shown, but decided better of it. Surely she was just reading too much into it again, as Agdar had mentioned. The sailor had likely just spat out some seawater that he had accidentally tasted. She continued to hold tightly to the rail, but the waves seemed to be getting worse. She was soaked to the skin, and longed to be dry, but the storm raged on.

Idun began to fear they were right. She thought of her daughters, Elsa and Anna, safe back at the castle in Arendelle. She wished she were with them right then, warm within the palace walls. Instead she was freezing from the waves splashing over the side. The water was cold, not freezing, thank goodness, but cold enough to make her teeth chatter.

"How much longer can this storm last?" she asked.

"That is for God to decide, my dear."

Idun cast her eyes over the rising waves, each individual wave itself seemed to dwarf the frigate that carried them. One wave in particular caught her eye, as it built in front of the ship. Men began to yell orders as the deck pitched her rearward. Only Idun's death-grip on the railing saved her from sliding. The deck quickly leveled out as the crew worked frantically around them. Idun noticed the deck pitch again, as the ship slid off the giant wave, this time the far railing rising high into the air.

Idun watched the men as they suddenly fell into the water just past her, horrified that this might be her last moments. She struggled to her feet, her sodden dress clinging to her legs, when a screamed warning from Agdar made her look up at a falling cannon. Turning to the ocean, she dove for the water in a desperate bid to save her own life, hoping Agdar was right behind her.

As she kicked for the surface, her sodden dress began pulling her down below the water. The ship gently rolled on top of her, providing a cap for her watery grave. She scrambled for the railing, her hands blindly pulling her along in the freezing water. Her lungs burned for air long before she crawled past the edge of the ship. Her dress was heavy with saltwater, and unable to swim for the surface, she was forced to crawl up the barnacle encrusted hull, her fingers scrambling for purchase and her lungs screaming in agony. She broke the surface of the water, gasping for air, as the keel of the ship was feet away from disappearing below the water.

She searched in vain for help, not finding anyone. Where were the crew? Where was Agdar? The captain? The keel of the ship began to sink below the water, forcing Idun to stand on the sinking hull. A few barrels floating nearby in a net caught her attention. Could she survive on it? It was floating after all. With the water already at her knees, she felt she had no choice. Lunging for the barrels, she managed to wrap herself into the netting. She looked again for some one, anyone. A crew member, even, but no one was visible.

So there she remained, her arms wrapped into the netting, though already numb, as were her legs. She was cold. Freezing. How did Elsa cope with this cold? Thoughts of her daughters brought some life into her, but her tired body wanted to sleep. She tried to stay awake, but soon found herself nodding off, only to be awoken when a wave crashed over her. So cold, and tired. Eventually she nodded off to sleep, weeping tears of grief for her lost family.

-o-0-o-

Idun came to as cold hands lifted her into the air. Her mind struggled to function, to piece together what was going on. She opened her eyes to see the crew that was dropping her to the deck of a ship. Her dull mind thought briefly that the sailors might have righted the ship, but then she remembered being on it when it sank beneath the water mast first.

No, this was a different ship, but whose? The British? The Danes? A man with a peg leg and crusty boot came to a thumping stop in front of her. She was far too numb from the bone-chilling cold though to lift her head to acknowledge him.

"Are you afraid?" a voice asked from above her, the deep timbre sending a chill down her spine.

As her mind began to function, her fear of dying alone at sea came back to her. She thought of her daughters, relieved she had been rescued. Had they seen Agdar? Was he here? Questions flooded her mind, as it began to function, taking in more of her surroundings. Was this ship heading to Arendelle? Doubtful she knew, but once they made port, she would be able to send word to the Arendelle Royal Navy to come for her. She would then be able to return to her daughters.

"Do you fear what worlds lay beyond this one? The results of your sins coming home to haunt you? I can forestall the punishments. Keep you in this world. Serve the Dutchman a hundred years and earn yourself a redeeming quality."

World beyond this one? What was he talking about? The only worlds past this one were Heaven and Hell, and they only mattered if you…

"I'm dead?" she whispered, horrified at the implications. She was still wet, her dress still clung to every curve of her body, but the cold, the numbness were now gone from her body. That shouldn't be. She should be on the verge of death. A freezing death, but she felt as if she had merely been dunked into the sea.

"Aye, ye be dead," he said again. "You froze to death. We pulled you off some barrels caught in a cargo net."

She was dead? If she were dead, that meant she would never see her family again. Her daughters would be told that their parents were dead, lost forever to the sea. Agdar's regent would oversee Elsa's coronation, though she might appoint a time for mourning. That would also give her time to bring her power's under control so she wouldn't have an accident.

Her daughters. She would never see them again. That thought alone made tears fall down her cheek. She had brought both into this world, knowing each time she did so she risked death for the precious opportunity to bear life. Now they would go on without her.

"Agdar...my husband...have you found him?"

"We have," that deep timbered voice said, which as Idun looked up found it belonged to a well-weathered man with a long brown beard. "He chose not to accept my offer and is below. We will deliver him to his eternal reward with the others from your ship."

"My daughters," she whispered, uncertain if her voice was being heard due to the fear she felt. "Might I see my daughters again if I serve?"

"Aye, any able seaman is allowed to return home once every ten years to see family. It's for only a night and a day, but ye could if ye earned the right."

Relief surged through Idun. She could see them again. Once every ten years. It was a long time to go between visits, but any chance to see her daughters again demanded she try.

"I'll serve."

"Welcome aboard, miss?" Jones said, prompting his new recruit to give her name.

"Idun. Queen Idun of Arendelle," she said, rising to her feet in her still soaking dress.

"We stand on no ceremony here, Idun. You will do the work assigned ye, or you'll suffer the consequences," he said, then turned to a blond man beside him. "Bosun, get this swab to work!"

"Aye, Captain Jones," the bosun said, as the peg-legged captain turned and thumped away. "Come on, Idun," he barked. "You can start by scrubbing the main gangway."

Scrub? Idun had never worked a day in her life. She looked at her hands, so small, delicate. Free of callouses. As a royal, even the smallest tasks were assigned to the varying members of the staff.

"And pray tell, how does one scrub a main gangway?"

* * *

Chapter 2

Deep below the surface, in a rock cavern far from the mortal world, stood a dark figure. This room was the central point of his kingdom, a dark and foreboding place few welcomed the sight of, and many more struggled to stay away from. There was no real source of light here, the floor itself glowed a bright red, the eerie light casting odd reflections on the walls as it seemed to move and shift. The walls were as black as the night sky, reaching overhead into a tall dome that no shadow reached.

He stood where he always did, on a small out-thrust of the glowing red rock from his gloomily lit central chambers and looked out over various other caverns. From here he could see into every Underworld under his control. It was his job, given to him by his all mighty brother, Zeus, eons ago. Here he was known as Hades, Lord of the Underworlds, Scourge of the Afterlife.

He was tall, thin but still well muscled. His skin was pale, and his well toned Olympian body was covered in a form fitting black toga with gold embroidery. His helm was also gold, with his stylized symbol outlined in black. The symbol itself was of a scepter, a tall thin spike with the flared crescent top containing an orb.

Hades could also feel her approaching. It wasn't simply his mastery of the Underworld that told him she was coming. No, she radiated power like few others. He turned to face his new arrival as she stepped off the last step. She was dressed in a vibrant blue toga with a golden cord tied about her and accentuating her magnificent body, and trailing a cape of green. The crown on her brow bore her symbol, that of a peacock with its plumage in a brilliant gemstone display. Hades often thought Hera went to great lengths to be the most beautiful goddess on Olympus. Vanity was so unfitting a god, he thought.

"Do you remember our bet, Lord Hades?" she said.

"I was wondering if you would honor a bet made centuries ago after besotting yourself with wine from Dionysus," he said, letting the snide remark slap her. "But, you have always held a fondness for mortal 'royalty.'"

"I honor all my arrangements, brother," she said, showing a bit of the anger she was infamous for amongst the mortals and gods alike. "And why shouldn't I love my royal subjects? Is that not what Zeus made me goddess of? Marriage, women, royals, heirs, and empires? I am tired of them being denigrated as weak for a few bad apples!"

"Forgive me, my queen," he said, bowing. He knew better than to anger the goddess too much. Deciding that cooler heads might be allowed to stay attached, he continued, "You might not win this bet, though. This royal human woman is a far cry from being made of the stuff of heroes, let alone to thrive aboard the ferryman's ship."

"Be that as it may, our arrangement that the first of royal blood who would bind themselves to the Flying Dutchman would be our test. She has a core of strength and a devotion to her daughters I find touching."

Hades scoffed at this. He had already been watching the woman as she was trained to scrub a deck, something every sailor had done at one point in another in his life as a sailor. She had actually begun to cry over a torn fingernail, and Hera thought she could rival the best sailors death could offer?

"She is weak," he said, creating a scrying point on his wall. It showed Idun, as a single tear slipped down her face. "She will not thrive if she doesn't learn to cope with pain."

Hera smiled at this. "Pain is the basis on which strength and resilience is based. Does it not take the breaking of human bone many times for them to grow resilient to breaking again? She will hurt, yes. She will cry many tears before this is done, but I still believe she will prove my point."

"As you wish, my queen," he said, bowing his head to Hera.

"Are you ready to make good on your end of our 'arrangement,' Lord Hades?"

"If," he said, accentuating the word, "she can thrive aboard the Ferryman's ship, I will do so. It matters not to me whom receives the dead at sea, only that my tasks there are done."

"Then we are in agreement," she said, before turning away, and regally climbing the stairs.

Such vanity, he thought, as he turned back to his out-thrust. There was no way that the weak-willed woman could attain the position of bosun on Captain Jones vessel. Sailors better than Idun had tried, staying aboard the cursed vessel for hundreds of years and not attaining that rank. Hera must truly think something of this mortal, to continue the wager.

As he looked back at his various scrying points, he could see that Idun would not last. She was just too weak, too used to privilege, to thrive. He began to doubt she would ever see her home again.

-o-0-o-

Idun was on her knees, her dress bunched up around her as she scrubbed the hallway with a holystone, a large brick of sandstone she was using to scrub the decks white. She was halfway through the hallway, and her delicate dress was already ripping at the seams. She tried to save the dress by not bunching it under her, but it was proving futile.

"You got twenty minutes, Idun," Bosun remarked as he stood leaned up against the wall behind her.

Idun slid further down, the pain in her back and arms already intolerable. She stopped to rearrange her dress, then stretched her aching muscles. She had the rest of the hallway to scrub clean, almost twenty feet, and she began to fear that her already painful joints were failing her. She leaned over, sprinkled some wet sand and water over in front of her, and began to scrub again

Bosun watched her, nodding his approval. He had showed her how to scrub the deck, only partly surprised that she didn't know a thing about scrubbing floors. To him, Idun was a pretty woman that knew nothing about living in the world. She was a beautiful arm decoration for the fancy balls, and had no place in the real world. Even her dress showed how vain she was. He had worn the same clothes for almost ten years. Her dress, which he was sure was recently made of the finest materials, couldn't handle one of the most basic functions aboard a ship.

Not to mention climbing the rigging later.

He watched her scrub, inching her way down the hallway. She paused again, to rearrange her dress. He knew she wasn't going to make it through scrubbing the hallway in time. She wasn't far enough along. He'd seen this before, with other swabs in his almost two hundred years on the Dutchman. That's why Jones had started this. To teach newcomers how to overcome pain in their new existence.

Now Idun was about to start that lesson in earnest, and he wasn't thrilled about being the one to have to give it her.

"Time's up, Idun," he called, and Idun straightened and rubbed her aching spots, which was pretty much all over. She still had several feet of the hall left scrub, though given the time, even the young boys that bound themselves to the Dutchman could do it in half the time. Still though, as bosun he was charged with discipline aboard the Dutchman. He hated to do it, but Idun was given a task and failed to complete it. The punishment was clear.

"Come on, Idun," he ordered, placing a hand under her arm and lifting her to her feet.

Idun began crying as she was led up the deck, her mind giving her horror after horror for what was about to happen. She was led to the rear of the ship, past several crewmen who moved out of the bosun's way. At the rear of ship, through her tear filled eyes, she saw the captain near the helm where he seemed to be waiting on them.

"She failed in her duties, captain!" the bosun called out, his voice strong as strong as his grip on her arm.

"Bring a chest," Jones ordered to his crew, his voice cold as the air surrounding them. One of the sailors disappeared down the hatch and brought back one of the small iron-wrapped wooden boxes. The chest was opened, and Idun was folded dress and all into it. Two large sailors then stood on it, forcing it the last of the way closed even as Idun screamed in pain as she was forced to contort into a space too small for her body. The iron clasps were then secured with padlocks. The chest was then taken to the bilge, and placed against the hull of the ship.

Idun waited in the dark, crushed into a fetal position by the tight confines of her stays while within the chest. There was no light available to see with, and she barely breath as the stays around her chest were so tight as to be breaking. She tried in vain to hear the sound of anything happening, but not even the groan of the timbers reached her ears. With nothing to do, she was forced to wait for the day to pass.

She thought of her life back in the castle of Arendelle, specifically just after Agdar was named King when his father, King Richart, died suddenly in his sleep. He hadn't been sick, not that the doctors could tell, but the rotund monarch hadn't been sleeping well for some time and was prone to falling asleep on his throne. In a lot of ways, she thought, she'd rather be back there.

-o-0-o-

December 24, 1817

Idun lay in her soft bed, on sheets of soft satin. She knew, somewhere, her daughter was being attended to by the servants, though she herself was still recovering from childbirth just a day and a night prior. She smiled, remembering the childbirth, though she was glad the pain was over. The doors to her boudoir opened, revealing her handmaiden and her doctor. Also with them was another woman, who held a small bundle in her arms that appeared to be wrapped in a blanket. Idun's smile faded, as she took the three grim faces in, then her eyes went back to the third woman and the small, baby-sized bundle she carried.

"Doctor Moller, what is wrong with my daughter?" she ordered, her tone steady though she feared the worst. Why else would they be so grim-faced?

"Your Majesty, there was an incident in the night," the doctor said, his voice wavering slightly and his eyes cast downward. "The fire in the nursery went out. The nursemaid has frozen to death."

The doctor took a moment to collect himself, while the nursemaid brought the bundle and placed it in Idun's arms. Idun noticed the babe's skin was as cold as ice, thought it maintained a healthy pink glow. She became worried that with her skin that cold, the babe might grow ill, and looked to the doctor for confirmation.

"Will my child live?" she asked, worry on her face. It wasn't worry as much for the babe itself, but for her husband's, now King Agdar, image. Losing children after childbirth was often seen as a sign of weakness in the royal family. Such weaknesses often led to unrest in the kingdom, unrest that sometimes turned bloody.

The doctor nodded and Idun relaxed. The doctor then continued, "Sometimes, with newborns, a mother provides something a wet-nurse can't. We don't understand it yet, but children who are nursed by their mothers have better chances of surviving in difficult times."

"You want me to nurse my daughter? Like a common woman?" Idun asked incredulously, even as the sheet was draped across the her shoulders, covering her from the neck down. The maids stopped what they were doing and stood by her bed, heads bowed. The doctor himself looked down at his feet, not wanting to show disrespect to his queen.

"If you want the child to live, ma'am, you will need to nurse her. It is a decision I leave to you, but my medical opinion is if she isn't nursed by you, and soon, the child will not live to see her first birthday."

Idun paused to reflect on the doctor's words. It was denigrating to lower herself to such a common-woman's level to have nurse feed her own daughter. She was a ruling queen, a royal descending from ancient lines and kin to half the reigning monarchs in the world. To lower herself to the level of the women in rags, the costermongers, seamstresses and fallen women?

She also knew that to lose the babe, her first ever, could be seen as a bad omen. The commoners would grow fearful that there wouldn't be an heir for the kingdom, and if there was no heir, the kingdom would pass on to Agdar's closest male relative, who currently reigned over a small kingdom near Hanover. The people in the kingdom might rebel if that were to ever happen, and many of her subjects would die as the unrest was put down.

Either option was unbearable to Idun. She had a duty to protect the integrity of the crown, and that included not lowering herself from her station. In the end though, her duty to her daughter was what caused her to nod her head, and allow the maids to open her shift. Her handmaiden then lifted the sheet that was draped across her while the nursemaid helped her to adjust the babe so she could suckle at her breast. When the babe's lips met her tender flesh, she couldn't help but gasp at the icy feeling. It was if her lips were pure ice.

Soon though, the babe stopped suckling and Idun again nodded to her maids. The nursemaid removed the babe from Idun's arms, while her handmaiden restored her shift. The doctor had continued to wait, and inspected the babe before allowing it to pass back out into the boudoir.

"The child is still chilled to the bone, but the color of her cheeks seems to have improved somewhat," he said, worry still creasing his brow. "I've ordered the nursemaid to sit with the child near the fire in hopes that the heat will help warm the child."

"How long must I continue to...to nurse the child?" Idun asked, trying not to snap at the helpful doctor. She didn't know what to feel though. She knew it was demeaning to her station to have to stoop so low as to nurse a child like this, but once she had, something had come over her. She actually felt as if something had been taken away when the babe had been removed from her arms. Something wet on her cheek caused her to wipe it with a finger.

A tear? She was crying? She thought of the babe again and knew that something had passed between them, something between a mother and daughter that hadn't existed between her and her own mother. The two had respected each other, certainly, and her own mother had taught her to thrive in the royal courts and how to gather information discreetly on whether or not another kingdom planned treachery. Such skills were invaluable in royal circles, and helped avoid several wars, but there wasn't a feeling like this between them.

Was it love? Did she love the babe, where her mother had never actually loved her? Her mother had cared for her certainly, had spent numerous hours teaching her to curtsey properly, to be a proper lady at all times, to eat even hideous dishes with a smile on her lips so as not to offend allied kingdoms. This feeling, though, was different, and as she settled back into the soft and luxurious bed couldn't help but to feel the need to order her daughter be brought back into the room. The child did need to be warmed though, that was clear, so she allowed it for now.

"Several months at least," the doctor said, trying desperately not to offend as he stood there, not looking at anything but his feet at the uncomfortable feeling of being in a ladies private bedchamber. "Once the child can eat on its own, the nursing can end. Until then, as your personal physician, I must recommend that the child be nursed by you, and you alone."

"I understand, Doctor Moller," Idun said, as she looked up at the purple crocuses painted across the ceiling. "If there is nothing else, doctor, you are dismissed."

"By your leave, Your Majesty," he said bowing, then backed through the doorway before the handmaiden shut the door as she herself went about her duties.

Idun, left alone, pondered the feeling she had felt for her daughter. It was these thoughts about her feelings for her daughter that carried her into sleep.


	12. Long Live The Queen 01

**Chapter 1: Chapter 1**

* * *

 **Queen Idun – North Sea**

The storm raged around them, though King Agdar tried to comfort his wife Queen Idun. It was not the first storm they'd been in, though usually the sailors had better time before it actually arrived to lower the sails. At the moment though, the sailors hadn't been able to lower the mainsails, the wind was just too strong, and they had already lost three good men who had fallen into the sea.

King Agdar wanted his wife to stay inside, but she refused to leave him. The captain was also against it, saying she might be trapped below decks if anything went wrong. Something was wrong she knew, and then it happened. A brief flash of lightning lit the sky overhead, it was the only warning she had, as a mountain of a wave crested just off the right of the ship. The deck pitched violently, and she held on to the railing with all the strength she had, as Agdar turned to yell an order to the crew.

He never finished his order, as the deck became nearly a wall beside them, one of the cannons fastened on the far side broke free. Idun will never forget it. The cannon fell right towards them, in slow motion, and smashed through the railing where Agdar was standing.

She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the horrible sight, and the ship rolled over. She let go of the railing, and kicked for the surface. When she broke the surface, she had to gasp for air. She tried to cling to the rough bottom of the boat, but the ship was sinking, being dragged under by the heavy weight of the cargo and cannon. A barrel floated up beside her and she clung to it instead, and watched the ship disappear.

She looked around, terrified. Where were the crew? The captain? She clung tighter to the small barrel. What would happen now?

-o-0-o-

 **Captain Will Turner – The Locker**

"Keep a weather eye open, and sing out if you see anyone!"

He never much cared for the job he had as ferryman. To scavenge the wrecks of ships, looking for those who were near death and dying, offering them a chance to serve a hundred years before the mast, before allowing them the chance to move on in peace.

'To move on, like Elizabeth,' he mused. His wife Elizabeth had perished almost twenty years earlier, while he was at sea. It still hurt him, thinking that she was at peace while he was still cursed to sail forever, until someone stabbed his heart. He didn't know it's exact location, but he knew it was somewhere in Port Royal. He also mused that until it was found, he himself would never know peace, but that was the price he paid.

One day ashore, ten years at sea. Captain of the Flying Dutchman until someone stabbed his heart. Then that person would have take his place and he would at last be at peace, cursed to sail until the same thing happened to him.

"Man overboard!"

Will rushed to the port side, and indeed saw a figure in the water, but as he looked at it, he was sure it was no man. Not with a figure that slight. Still, his crew fished the woman out of the water and deposited her on the deck, where she began gasping for air. Will knelt at her side, as she used a wet handkerchief to wipe the corners of her mouth.

"Are you afraid of death," he asked the same question as always. He had never heard tale of a woman serving on the Dutchman, but as she was dying at sea, she was his charge to ferry to the other side.

"Am I dead?" she asked, looking scaredly at the small circle of men around her.

"Not yet, but you are dying. Dying of cold, and exposure. I offer you the chance to forestall the judgment. Serve one hundred years before the mast, one day ashore, ten years at sea."

"Who are you, an angel?"

"I am William Turner, captain of the Flying Dutchman."

"The ghost ship?" the queen gasped, crossing herself as she trembled all the harder.

"Our job is to ferry souls to the other side, the souls of those who passed at sea. My crew, to a man, chose to forestall the judgment, to serve a hundred years on board my ship. In return, they get to spend one day ashore, and square themselves with their lives before they pass on," Will explained calmly.

He never had to do this with a woman before, in the almost hundred years he had been captain. Almost all sailors knew the tale of the Dutchman, though at first, many thought Jones was still captain, and many were openly glad that the cruel monster had met his end.

Now though, he was forced to try to quickly explain to the woman who they were and what their function was. It never occurred to him that a woman might die at sea, even though he had sailed with several women pirates through while he was still alive.

In possession of his heart at least.

The small brunette seemed to be thinking, hugging her wet clothes tightly as she shivered in the cold water she was bathed in. She looked up at Will, the first time she had looked him in the eye, and it reminded him of Elizabeth's face. He let her think, it was her choice, and not to be made lightly.

"I might see my daughters again if I serve?" she finally asked, her voice shaking in the cold.

"Yes. I have several granddaughters waiting for me in Port Royal, at my wife's estate there. On my one day, I go there to visit. To see who has been added to my family, who has passed. On your one day, you can return to your home, see your daughters, their children, and eventually your grandchildren. When your time has come, you will finally be at peace, and you can go be with the rest of your loved ones."

"Then I will serve," she whispered, "one hundred years."

"Welcome aboard," Will said, extending his hand to seal the lady's fate. She took his hand and he pulled her to her feet. She swayed a bit, but still shivered from the cold water in her clothes. "What's your name miss?"

"Idun, Queen Idun of Arendelle."

-o-0-o-

 **Queen Idun – The Locker**

She felt odd in her new outfit. The captain had brought her down below decks and found her some old clothes to wear, then left her to change while he went back above deck to assist the crew. As she put her small feet in the boots, she thought about her daughters Elsa and Anna. She knew the servants would take care of them, and that her husband had capable men to guide Elsa in running the country.

It still made her feel sad that she was going to miss out on the girl's lives until she could return.

"For one day," she breathed, then steeled herself. She would have to deal with it as she could, but she was bound to the ship now. She didn't know how to explain it, she wasn't cold, but she knew it was cold. She began to wonder what else had changed.

Climbing up to the top deck felt odd in a man's clothes, she though, though she had been told she'd be expected to climb the rigging, and she couldn't see herself doing that in a dress. It would be too clumsy, and she might get hurt. Now dressed in drab brown trousers, a white cotton shirt that was rather loose on her, a tight vest of brown leather, boots with several straps that kept them tight to her calves, and a blue handkerchief tied around her neck. She had a leather belt on too, and on it was her sword.

The captain had also told her she'd have to learn to use a sword eventually, as sometimes they had sailors who refused to go to the afterlife and had to be dealt with. It was a thought that filled her with dread. How far would she be required to go as a common sailor? She shook her hair, now loose and hanging free around her shoulders, held back by a piece of rawhide so it wouldn't get in her eyes while she worked.

At the top of the stairs, she could see it was getting light, and the crew was already hard at work. She looked around for the captain, finding him by the wheel on a deck above her. She walked up the stairs, one hand daintily on the hand rail, and walked over to him. She could tell he was carrying a second hat, an odd tricorn one that was made of leather and looked like it had been burned a few times.

"You'll need a hat, Idun," he said, offering her the weathered old hat. "It belonged to a good friend of mine, I've never seen him without that hat on, but when I escorted him over, he left it with me. Take care of it, as its former owner did, and may it serve you well."

"Thank you, captain," she said, taking and putting the hat on. It fit her well, and she was grateful for it. She then felt for the first time truly lost, terrified of what was to come. She steeled herself, and addressed the captain again. "My orders, sir?"

"You'll accompany mister Turner on duties. He'll instruct you in the ways of a sailor. Just do what he says, and you'll do fine."

"Thank you, captain."

"Oh, and don't expect anyone to call you 'your majesty' or 'your highness' here. You're a sailor now, you'll live like one until your time. I might have forgotten to mention it, but those that severely break the rules, are sent to my Locker. It's a nasty place of punishment, the worst fate a person can bring on themselves that can last forever. That is what awaits in my locker."

"Understood, captain."

"Then your with me, Idun. I'll show you how to tie a sheepshank and a sheet bend, maybe even a round turn if you don't get lost first."

Idun followed the weathered old sailor down the stairs, and began to learn the differences in knots and how to tie them. She was lost in trying to learn the differences when a voice called out above her, "Boats off the starboard!"

"What does that mean?"

"It means that a ship has gone down recently, and a bunch of sailors has met their end. They're of no difficulty to us, they'll pass over with no problem. At peace with the world, as it were."

She looked out over the few boats as they passed, surprised to see Agdar in one.

"My husband. It's my husband!"

"Leave him be, Idun. He's at peace," he said sorrowfully.

"Can't he serve too? Pledge to serve a hundred years?" Idun pleaded with him.

"No, he's at peace. Let him be,"

Idun watched as Agdar's boat come close to the ship she was on. She thought of jumping over to his boat, but realized what mister Turner had said was true. Agdar was at peace, and it was it best to let him rest in peace, so she let him pass by. He never even looked at her, just stared ahead, his posture the very command of authority it had always been in life. She watched until he was obscured by the mists, then by her own tears as she wept for his passing.

"I think we done enough for today. Why don't you go down below and find yourself a place to rest. When your ready, just come back up."

"Thank you," she said, as she turned to leave. She walked calmly down the stairs and into the hold. She turned and walked back to where she had changed her clothes to an empty hammock. She sat on the hemp rope, and then leaned over and lay in it, enfolded in its embrace. She began to cry, not for herself, but for her lost family.

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Chapter 2**

* * *

Pirates Of The Caribbean: Frozen XOVER

Chapter 2

Queen Idun – Flying Dutchman

When Idun finally went back up to the main deck, she wasn't happy with what had happened to Agdar. She had eventually cried herself dry, or felt she had anyway, and though her eyes were still red and puffy, she knew that there was nothing more that could be done. Agdar was at peace, she was pledged to the Dutchman, and Elsa and Anna would soon be told that their parents had died at sea.

Idun wondered briefly if Elsa would lose control once she'd be told about their deaths. She knew the girl walked a fine line of control most days, barely able to be around the servants. If her control slipped, she might hurt someone again, which would cause her to spiral further out of control. It would eventually lead to Elsa being forced out of European society, or maybe even her execution.

She shuddered at the thought of Elsa being tied to a post and burned alive. It hadn't happened for years, but knew the common masses wouldn't tolerate the unnatural in their midst.

"Oh," she said, realizing that it would also mean they wouldn't react kindly to her being back either. She thought about what Bill had said about what life would be like for her now. Somewhere between living and dead, that her body would heal itself even if mortally wounded. She clung to the hope that she would see Elsa and Anna again, but began to wonder if they would want to see her.

'Of course they will,' she finally decided. She was their mother, after all, and after ten years, the girls would be delighted to see her alive and well. Idun spared a glance down at her man's attire, and decided that she'd somehow sew a proper dress before her one day ashore.

"Idun! Your aloft, today!" the captain called to her.

"Aloft?" Idun asked Mister Turner, who was standing beside her.

He smiled, then pointed skyward, "All the way aloft."

Idun looked up, seeing a figure waving down at her from the platform at the top of the mast. She wondered briefly how she was supposed to get there, and her eyes followed the netting down the mast to the railing. She went to the side of the ship, then climbed on top of the rail, and started to climb her way into the rigging. She found it difficult to climb the ropes, mostly from inexperience, having never climbed so much as a tree in her life.

She paused to look down briefly, and her stomach immediately started doing flip-flops. Scared, she clung more tightly to the rope, and moved more slowly, trying to make sure of her footing and hand holds before moving her weight too much. She had to tune the calls of the crew out, to concentrate, then looked up when her hand run out of net to climb.

"This is the main top, just above the stuns'l boom, which carries the main sail."

Idun visibly jerked at seeing Turner above her, offering her a hand. She took it, and stepped up to join him, wrapping an arm around the shroud that led further up the mast.

"How did you get up here?"

"I used the other side."

Idun looked past Mister Turner to indeed see another set of netting leading down to the railing, then she looked up to see the next platform she'd have to climb up to. With a sigh, she swung around the edge and began to climb the next tier, making it a point this time to not look down, only up, until she reached the platform where Mister Turner waited.

"Welcome to the crosstrees," he said, once again extending his hand. As she joined him, she noticed this one was much smaller, with barely room for a few people. She glanced down, seeing the ship laid out underneath her feet, and immediately regretted it as her stomach lurched.

"It takes some getting used to, being up here, but you have one more small climb," he said, indicating the last set.

Idun swallowed, knowing deep within her heart she'd made a terrible mistake. What if she fell? She'd heard that even shorter falls than this had caused terrible accidents, so what if she fell. Would she die? Be unable to move?

She shook her head as if to clear it of these foolish notions, and swung out once again, and started to climb. She'd only made it a few feet above the platform when a strong wind picked up, the sails that were billowing futilely suddenly swelled, and the entire ship leaned with the wind. Idun clung hard with her hands to the net, but was unprepared when her feet slipped, and she was hanging by nothing more than her hands. She tried her best to hang on, but as the ship began to rite itself, her grip gave, and she fell.

She would have screamed if the sudden sensations of falling hadn't robbed her of the air in her lungs. She felt as if time had slowed, she could still see Turner's face as she fell, hand just out of her reach. Then, she heard a sickening crunch, and felt the pain. She'd landed on the deck, and her heart seemed to stop as the pain of falling hit her.

Was she dead? Would she go to the locker? Would she ever get to see her daughters again?

"Hey," the captain shouted, then he was standing over her, blotting out the sun, a smile on his face. "You want to sleep, go down to your hammock."

That puzzled Idun, who began to experimentally move her arms, finding that she could, even the pain had subsided. She took the captain's proffered hand, and even heard some of the crew laughing. What was so funny?

"Remember Idun, while we're not alive, we're not dead either, and we can heal our injuries, including falling nigh on a hundred feet."

"Still hurts," she mumbled, rubbing her arm where it had broken, but was now healed perfect.

"Aye, that it does. Try to make it all the way this time."

o-0-o

Captain Turner - Flying Dutchman

Will watched the young redhead start climbing the shrouds, knowing his father was giving him a stern look.

"I thought you were going to tip the ship over, it was pitched so."

"Just wanted to make sure she would fall, she had such a death grip on that shroud. You've done well with her so far. Elizabeth was very knowledgeable about sailing before she ever took to sea."

"Yea, well, Elizabeth would have been a great sailing captain had she been born a man. As it were, she still made a great Pirate Lord and King."

"Aye," Will said, watching Idun climb the second tier shrouds, almost halfway to the lookout post. "Idun though is much different. She is what Elizabeth was supposed to be, a true lady, with refinement and culture. Have all the crew been told not to molest her?"

"Aye, I passed that word about while she slept. I've told them that any man caught will spend eternity in the Locker, though I don't think any of our current crew will try it. They know you're fair, that once she's trained she'll perform every task the same as they or she'll get whipped."

"I would prefer it not to come to that. Has she been told about the meaning of the bells? She's been late to her shift every morning."

"No, I thought she might have been taught them before, so I didn't think about it."

"It's ok, I'll give her the basic rundown later."

"As you wish, I think I better get this lot busy sailing. Permission for full sail?"

"Aye, full sail, bring her before the wind, and let's see where Calypso takes us."

"Aye, son," Bill said, as he ambled away, shouting orders to make sail. Will for his part was content to give Idun a month to learn how to become a sailor. A month, and then he would ask of her the same as any sailor under his command. He'd see to it that she was trained in the use of a sword, but she would have to learn. He couldn't have a crewman who couldn't pull their weight, so he would have her learn, or she'd wish she had.

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Chapter 3**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

Boostrap Bill – Flying Dutchman

"So I jump on Jones' back, and we start to tussle around, which buys Jack Sparrow enough time to get to William and set it up for William to stab the heart. The look on Jones' face when what was left of Sparrow's sword stabs his heart, then he falls overboard, it was a sight! Which I know most of you lot," motioning to the men around him, "Weren't with us then. But the curse we took, it meant we had to cut his heart out. Well since we were still at the bottom of that maelstrom, we got sucked completely under. Gods only know how Barbossa got the Pearl out, and when we surface not long after, William's at the helm, we're back to normal, and we blow the Endeavour clear out of the water!"

Bootstrap pauses for a moment, laughing so hard he can't continue, when he's almost ready, he notices Idun coming up from below deck, and he waves her over to join them.

"First thing the next day, when we get back to our ferrying duty, we pull Beckett out of the water. It's the only time I ever seen William not ask the Question. He grabs Beckett by the front of his coat, drags him to the side of the Dutchman, and says, 'One thousand years, Lord Beckett. In my Locker,' and he throws him over and he disappears below the water."

"So Lord Beckett was drowned again?" Idun asked, standing behind the gathered men.

"Na, he's in the Locker. Most people think the Locker is the oceans, but they're wrong. It's a prison for the mind, you can't escape. The one person who escaped it, Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl, said you see things there. You know it's not right, that they're hallucinations, but you can't do anything about it. For him, he was there with the Pearl, a crew of hallucinations of himself doing everything, and unable to make sail." He shakes his head, "For a captain to not be able to sail, that's a punishment in and of itself. He had only just started on his thousand years, so no telling what else he would have had to endure."

"Sounds terrible."

"Nuff of this, let's get a game of Liar's Dice, going." another sailor huffed.

"Liar's Dice?"

"Sit in on it, it's about the only game we play." Bootstrap commented, as another sailor set a keg down and a plank of wood on top of it. Another sailor set several cups and poured out some die. Bootstrap noticed that three other sailors beside himself were already sitting, so he moved over and let Idun sit beside him as he went over the rules. "The game itself is simple. You bet the number of die you think you have, along with everyone else. But the bet only goes up, in either number of dice or the type of dice. You lose if you bet a number that isn't there and get called a liar for it. However, you can call the person before you a loser if you think his bet is wrong."

"So, what do we use to bet with? I didn't think to bring any gold with me when my ship sank."

Bootstrap started laughing, "We wouldn't have any use for gold anyways. We bet years."

"As in how long we serve the ship? Wouldn't it be possible then if you keep winning to serve forever on board?"

"You could, quite a few of us have served over a hundred years. I'm currently on my one hundredth and eleventh. Taggert has been on board now for almost two hundred," Bootstrap said, handing her three die in a cup.

"And for every ten years you still get a day ashore?"

"Oh aye. William gave us the day he goes ashore to do with as we please. So really you go ashore again in four years, ten months and three days."

"So soon?" Idun said, her face showing the despair and loss from being separated from her daughters.

"Idun, its best if you try to concentrate on the here and now. After this game, why don't you tell us about them. It will help you remember their faces, what their like, so you don't forget why you serve."

"Alright, are we ready to start?"

"Shake the dice good, and then turn the cup upside down so it covers the dice. You can look at yours after you turn the cup upside down, but you have to hide the dice so no one else can see yours."

The five players shook their dice, then they placed the cups upside down. Bootstrap went first.

"I wager two years."

The others quickly agreed, and then Bill led the betting.

"I bet two-ones," Bootstrap said.

The player on his right went next. "Two-twos."

"Three-fours."

The player on Idun's left then went, "Four-threes."

Idun looked at her die, she had two threes and a five showing. "Five threes."

Bill then went again, "Six-threes."

The guy on Bootstrap's right, glanced at his dice again. "Seven-threes."

"Youse a liar Gainey!" went the person opposite Idun.

"Now we show our dice, count the three's, and see if he lost or not," Bootstrap said, revealing his die to be a one, three, and a six.

The others revealed their die, but there were only four threes showing. "You're out, Gainey."

Gainey then left the board, and the four then took their die, put them back in the cup and shook them again. This time, the person on Bill's right went first.

"I bid, three-fours."

"Four-fours."

Idun, looked at her die, uncertainty on her face. "If I think he has bet too much, I can call him a liar right?"

"It's your call, Idun. But if you're wrong, you're out two years."

Idun looked under cup again, the turned to the man on her left. "I going to have to call you a liar."

Bill turned over his cup, and nearly started laughing when he counted the die. "Well, you got Tim!"

The three then reloaded their cups and repeated the process, but now it was Idun's turn to go first. Bill watched her look under her cup, then say, "I bet one duece."

Bootstrap looked under his cup, to see his die were four, two and five, then said, "I bid two twos."

The other sailor looked under his cup, and said, "Three twos."

"Four twos," Idun said.

Bill looked under his cup, and decided that he'd never get away with five twos. So, he was forced to call Idun out.

"Idun, I do believe you're lying."

Idun smiled, and then revealed her die. Bill revealed his, and the last sailor revealed his. Bill started laughing hard. Idun was catching on fast!

"You got me, I'd have never thought you had two twos with that first bid."

"I've noticed that if you watch the first bid, you can usually tell what a person has. It makes it easier to know who is and isn't lying."

This made Bootstrap laugh harder, "Well, its just you and Rip now. Good luck with him, Idun!"

Idun and Rip then put their die back in the cup, and shook them. This time Rip started the bet.

"I bet one three."

Idun again looked under her cup, and Bootstrap began to wonder what Idun was thinking. She was smart, he knew that. So he knew she was trying to figure Rip out, and being a woman he reasoned, Rip my finally live up to his name.

"Two sixes."

Rip looked at his dice again, uncertainty painted on his face, finally whispering, "Three sixes."

Idun paused, but she remained ramrod straight facing Rip, then said, "Four sixes."

Rip smiled and began laughing, and thinking he had Idun beat said, No way you have four sixes!"

Idun merely raised her cup, revealing all three of her die were indeed sixes, and Rip's smile quickly faded. It didn't take Bootstrap a moment to know why. Three similar die were unheard of while playing, and Idun had capitalized on it without hesitation. Rip finally revealed his die and everyone gathered saw that there was indeed a fourth six, meaning Idun had won. Her very first game and she had won.

"Good going Idun," Bootstrap told her, "just be careful who and what you bet. There are some players here who would've figured you out. Just keep it simple for now, and be careful about what you say. I know one fool, a hundred years ago, who made and lost a bet back when Jones was in charge. He ended up losing his soul to the ship, doomed to sail for eternity."

"Who was he?"

"Me," Bootstrap said, then turned to watch the sea as it rolled past the Dutchman. He knew if he kept looking at the waves as the built, fell and rebuilt themselves, he would go mad. So he turned to see Idun standing by the railing, her arms around herself, lost in her own thoughts. He decided to spare her the loneliness of being lost in her own mind.

"Why don't you tell us about your daughters. They seem to be what's driving you, day by day."

Idun faced him for a second, then at the group of sailors still assembled around her. "The oldest is Elsa. She's eighteen this year. She's about my height and size, with hair the color of chamomile. She's so shy, and scared."

"What she scared for?" a nearby sailor asks.

Idun looks thoughtful for a moment, then says, "She was born with power over ice and snow, and she can hurt people with it, maybe even kill them. We don't know, and she's scared because she can't control it. There were times when she would be standing in her room, and her room would be frozen over in ice an inch thick. I'd try to comfort her, and she'd back away, afraid of harming anyone again."

"And the other one?" Bootstrap asked, trying to keep the conversation going. Talking about the past helped some people come to grips it, so they could move on. He was set on helping Idun, but Idun had to come to terms with her past on her own, but he wasn't sure if the mother could let it go.

"Anna. She's a little shorter than me, with ginger hair, and is Elsa's complete opposite. She's outgoing, carefree, and just a bundle of energy." Idun laughed softly, as if remembering something. "She was always so full of energy, she could never sit still enough to be considered a proper young lady. Elsa could sit so still you'd think she was frozen solid, but Anna wouldn't sit still at dinner."

"They sound beautiful," said one sailor, his eyes blank as his brain painted him a picture of the two young ladies.

"They are, and its hard to be away from them. We were just supposed to go to my sister's kingdom to attend my niece's wedding. She'll rule Corona once my brother-in-law, King Frederic, passes. I suppose once Elsa learns Agdar and I have passed she'll have her own coronation."

Bootstrap was awed by the way Idun talked of kings and queens, of taking the throne as if it were nothing. To him, royalty was always just people you spoke of and never saw, but here in front of him, in men's clothes was a royal who was just as cursed as he was, and it awed him to hear her talk of her daughters and missing them just as he had missed William when he had to leave his wife and son behind to return to pirating.

He shook his head. He hated to leave, but it was what he wanted, and he had found out too late that what he wanted wasn't what he needed, and it nearly cost him dearly. He nearly lost William when Jones stabbed him, saved only by the curse that the Dutchman must have a captain, and it was William's hand that held the remains of the sword that pierced Jones' heart.

Shaking his head again, he decided he'd walk the deck a little, he needed time to clear his head. He had plenty of time, very little was ever done on a Sunday and the crew was allowed to rest. Right now, he needed a little rest.

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Chapter 4**

* * *

 **A/N - Just a quick chapter. A word of warning, this chapter contains flogging, which is where a person was whipped as a punishment. If the thought of seeing a character go through this offends you, please do not read.**

 **You are warned.**

 **Chapter 4**

Four years, ten months and one day to Day One

Idun – Flying Dutchman

Idun awoke in her hammock, and mentally counted off one more day. Now that she knew how long it was, she found it easy to keep track, and almost needing to. She missed her daughters, and wanted nothing more than to get home.

Swinging herself out of her hammock, she grabbed the wide leather belt that held her sword, then headed out on deck, just as the boatswain began to sound the bell. Idun was about to head up to the nest when she realized the bell had only sounded once.

"Idun! You're late your post."

Idun winced, she knew the captain was strict but fair in his discipline, and she she must of slept in, something that wasn't tolerated. "My apologies, sir. I must of overslept."

She watched the captain descend the stairs near the wheel, saw the crew gathering around her. She was sure being late for watch wasn't worth the Locker, but so far hadn't seen anyone be punished for a transgression.

"You've been here for over a month," he said, now standing a few paces away, "Mister Turner warned you over sleeping in. You stand now as a full member of the crew, regardless of your sex, you will face the same demands they face, and the same punishments."

"Aye, sir," Idun said, scared of what was to come. How did sailors get punished anyway? She had heard something of flogging, but had never seen anyone have this performed on them.

"Bosun! Ten lashes."

Sailors to Idun's left and right grabbed her arms, and leaned her over the capstan. Idun began to fear for her honor, held down as she was, when rough hands undid her leather vest, then grabbed the collar of her shirt and ripped it down the back and sleeves. Left bare chested, Idun waited for the same to happen to her trousers when she felt the first sting across her back.

She screamed from sheer pain, having never once in her life had a hand laid against her, and would have fallen to the deck were it not for the two sailors who held her.

"Bosun! Don't show favoritism to Idun with a half attempt. Do so again, and I'll have you whipped twenty times."

"Aye, sir," was the halfhearted reply.

Idun wasn't able to even think as her punishment continued. Every sting of the lash seemed to dig deeper into her body, somehow far past the skin to her organs. When the last lash had fallen, she was doused in saltwater, and her arms released. With no support left, her brain frozen from the sheer amount of pain, Idun fell to the deck crying, and curled in upon herself.

It took a while for Idun to lift herself up out of the fog her brain was in. Never had she felt such pain. She was a royal, a life of prestige and luxury hers. Now, she realized, she wasn't. Her noble birth meant nothing here. Her crown was worthless. She was expected to do what the men did, or she'd be flogged.

Finally, as her brain began to function, she realized that the men had left her naked from the waist up. Using her arm to cover herself, Idun picked herself off the deck. Looking around, Idun found her vest, but the shirt was shredded beyond repair. Donning only the vest to protect her modesty, Idun then went forward to where she was expected to work.

"Still hurts, don't it?" Rip asked, watching Idun approach slowly.

"Only when I move, or breathe," she whispered, leaning over the railing as she dealt with the pain. It still hurt, no matter what she did, but she was trying not show it, though her lip quivered from wanting to cry than the freezing sensations she felt as she nursed Elsa.

"I think the cat o' nine is somehow cursed. Your back heals but the pain remains for days to remind you, I guess," Rip said.

Tim walked up behind them, "Take it easy, Idun. We got you for the rest of the watch."

Idun nodded to the men as they continued to work around her. She could use the help, she knew, because just moving her arms to the railing to help her lean caused tears to run down her cheeks.

* * *

 **A/N** \- I really didn't want to write this chapter, but felt it was needed to help break Idun from a cultured lady to a sailor. Also, allows me to start introducing friends and interlacing her with the crew more, and not have her as a standout.

I really started writing this particular story for the days ashore. While I will continue to write of some of her adventures at sea, the loss of friends over the years, it was the first two days she gets to spend ashore that made me want to tackle this. These are already planned, and Day One is being written as we speak. I might have to go to a higher rating to cover day 2, and some of these adventures she has at sea, but I'll keep you informed as that arises.

Feedback is always appreciated!

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Chapter 5**

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

Four years, nine months and twenty seven days to Day One

Idun awoke in her hammock, and immediately flinched from the memory of the scars on her back. After four days, the memory still stayed with her of the pain, but it didn't hurt her, just made her timid to move at times.

It was maddening, really.

Climbing out of her hammock, Idun slipped into her boots, wrapped her belt and sword around her waist and listened to the bell as it rang seven times. Stepping around the small partition the captain had installed to give her privacy if she ever needed to change clothes, she saw several of the crew as they headed up the stairs. Joining them, they formed off in groups, and Idun joined Rip, and Gainey, along with a few other crew she was beginning to know as friends.

Rip she found out was a United States American Marine. His real name was Rupert Downing. His ship had been sunk during the Barbary Wars in 1815. Wounded and dying, he had taken the deal, afraid of the consequences of his many "lady loves".

Gainey was a different story. Born Henry Gaines, he was a British sailor during the First Ashanti War who had died in a ship to ship fight with a sword through his gut. He ended up on the Dutchman and decided to stay on to meet his brother. Sadly though, his brother died in a pub fight a few years later over some drunken harlot that no one could remain straight faced about.

Another interesting man was Owen. He was as big as a boulder, literally twice as big as any other aboard ship. He was the sole survivor of a merchant vessel that had been attacked by pirates. The story she heard on him was he was just a passenger, a mountain man who had been traveling the coast in search of new lands to conquer. Word on his death was he had died while being keelhauled. Again, like Gainey's brother, no one would describe the process to her, so she was left to wonder what it was.

The five of them, including Bootstrap formed a close group. They worked in the rigging together on the foremast, the front most mast on the ship. They worked in groups to haul rope on the sails and jibs as needed. Also they helped her with her sword play, which is what they started to do that morning.

Gainey pulled his sword, and Idun pulled hers. They began to parry and thrust back and forth. Idun found it difficult to keep Gainey from hitting her. The back and forth continued, with several of the men teaching her how to roll her sword past a block to slice the person behind it. They had been at it for about twenty minutes when the bells rang again. At that, Idun and Gainey sheathed their swords, and headed up the shrouds to the second stuns'l boom, the wooden pole that held the sail.

On the boom, she could see almost as far as the man in the crow's nest. It was a lovely sight, one she enjoyed taking, and loved to lean against the mast and enjoy it. The wind was blowing around the ship, catching her loose hair and tugging it.

"All hands!" the Captain yelled, "Dive!"

Shouts of dive chorused around the ship, and Idun watched as the sea opened up underneath her vantage point, and the ship began to sink into the sea. Idun felt herself get pulled into the mast she was leaned against, and watched as her vantage point sank beneath the water. It was amazing, she thought, watching the water swirl past her. She didn't need to breathe, now that she was part of the ship. She continued to watch, until suddenly, the ship surfaced above the water. The moment the ship leveled out, she was standing on the boom again, though now it was night.

On the right, a ship was burning. She could see in the fires, the bodies that were in the water. Many of them weren't moving, but that's what they were here for. They were to be collected.

"Haul canvas! Lay her in irons!"

Idun began to haul the sail beneath her, along with Gainey. Soon they had the sail tied to the boom, then swung down the ropes to haul the sails on the first stuns'l boom. When they had the sails tied up there, they swung down and began to help haul the bodies aboard.

Idun found it distasteful work, handling the corpses, but as each corpse hit the deck, they returned to life and coughing up water. They were dressed in the patchwork style of pirates, though as far as Idun could tell they died sword in hand, as their scabbards were all empty. No one carried a pistol, and the crew lined the railing, looking everywhere even as they kneeled.

Idun watched as the captain came to stand before them, sizing each man up as he walked in front of them.

"Do you fear death? Do you fear that dark abyss? Your deeds laid bare, your sins punished? I offer you a choice. Join my crew and postpone the judgment. Serve one hundred years before the mast. Will you serve?"

He went down each of the crew, each man taking his time to answer. Idun knew the conundrum each man faced. Did they trust their choices in life? What was there worth living for? She had her daughters to go back to in Arendelle, so she wouldn't be at peace leaving this world. Agdar may have crossed to the next world with ease, but was he truly at peace?

Soon though, each man was giving their answer. All but one decided to not take the offer, to face the consequences of their choices. The man who took the offer was dressed in black leather, with a crimson shirt. He finally stood, as the rest of the crew were escorted down into hold, then went off with several other crew.

Idun found it unsettling that he kept glancing towards her when he thought she wasn't paying attention to him, invariably turning away when he was caught looking towards her.

"That man is not honorable," Rip said, standing beside her as they searched the wreckage for any other survivors.

"He scares me," Idun said, as she kept an eye over Gainey's shoulder on the new recruit.

"The way he watches you Idun, he's going to try something," Owen said

"I know," Idun said, "But with my friends watching my back, what can happen?"

-o-0-o-

It was well after, dawn where they were before the captain ordered full sail. Idun, along with the rest of the crew had been up all night, scouring the wreckage for survivors, finding a few people on the verge of death. They were all stashed in the cargo hold now, none of them taking the offer from the captain.

"Cast off all lines! Loose the sails and bring her before the wind!" the captain shouted.

Idun quickly climbed the rigging, and loosed the sails. Soon the Dutchman was under sail, leaving the burning wreck behind them. At the ring of four bells, Idun and her friends stood down their watch, letting the next watch take over in the rigging, while they took a break.

She climbed down the shrouds, and sat with the others, when she noticed the captain walking to stand near her. He didn't say a word, just stood there, listening to the wind and the sea. He finally turned to her, and smiled.

"Idun, I do believe its time for you to see the other side."

"You mean, Heaven?"

"Paradise anyway. The hold is near full, its time to cross over. Just remember, you can't leave the ship."

"Give the word, captain."

"Dive," He said, smiling.

Idun and the crew picked up the order, and soon the ship dove under the water again. Idun was pulled into the ship, and watched water spill over her vision. It was truly incredible, she thought, to watch this. Soon though, she noticed a bright light over the ship, and the ship came out of the water. Idun pulled herself out of the ship, and looked forward.

It was like they were sailing into the sun on the water. Idun looked forward, but her eyes couldn't make out anything but the bright light they were sailing into. Idun looked back at the crew, and saw they were all staring forward into the light. Idun looked back, wondering what it was that they could see, then her eyes began to make out a long pier, its wood a gleaming white as if it was built from the whitest of spruce trees.

As the Dutchman came closer, the crew began to reign in the sails. Idun was glad she was off her watch, and no longer had to work the rigging. She kept trying to see where the light was coming from, but was always blinded by the glare coming from in front of the ship. All she could see was the white wood of the dock.

Soon though, the ship slowed to a crawl, and the Dutchman was tied to the dock, and a walkway was placed against the ship. The booby hatch was slid to the side and the people from the cargo hold were led up to the deck. They all filed down the walkway, where people had begun to gather. Idun couldn't tell where they were coming from, just that they came out of the glare. People seemed to be meeting long lost loved ones, some seemed to be disappointed and just walked down the dock alone.

Idun soon wondered why the captain said she needed to see the other side when a tall, proud figure caught her attention. It wasn't anything about him, except his bearing. Tall, proud, distinguished. The light sandy hair, the thin mustache. Her husband, King Agdar was walking towards the Dutchman.

"Agdar!"

"Idun! It's good to see you again!"

Idun felt her heart breaking, she remembered the captain's warning, to not leave the ship. So here she was, trapped aboard the Dutchman, while her husband looked up at her. "Agdar, I'm sorry I can't come down. It's the ship, I'm bound to it."

"I know Idun. When you didn't make it, I asked them what had happened to you. I feared the worst, that you wouldn't be allowed here. I was told you had bound yourself to the Ferryman's Ship, to serve it for a hundred years. So I decided to wait for you. For our daughters."

"I get to go back to them soon. Four years, nine months and twenty six days."

I watched as the walkway was lowered, as the lines that secured them were cast off and put away. Idun and Agdar looked up at the sails, to see them start to lower, as the wind picked up and filled the sails.

"Tell them I love them. I shall be waiting for them and you. I won't leave this place until we are a family again, Idun!" Agdar began to shout as they pulled away from the dock Idun began to follow the railing as the ship pulled away, so she could hear Agdar. "I can't see you again. I'm only allowed to see you once, but I'll be waiting. Live your life, Idun! Don't look bacDon't worry about me. Go be with our daughters. I will always love you!"

"I love you too!"

Soon, Idun lost sight of him on the dock, amidst the bright glare of the sun that hid what lay beyond. Idun continued to watch the bright glare, until mist surrounded the ship, enveloping it. The glow soon faded and darkness surrounded her, the ships's lanterns not bright enough to batter back the darkness. Idun continued to watch the mists, as they faded into obscurity, leaving them alone on the trackless seas the Dutchman roamed.

Idun could feel the tears run down her cheeks as she stood there, watching the waves as they capped and fell apart. She cried as the moment finally hit her. Agdar would be waiting, however long it took. He would be waiting, and he wanted her to be happy. To live life, to see their daughters, and to not worry how long it would take. He would be patient, and he would be waiting.

Always waiting.

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Chapter 6**

* * *

Chapter 6

Four years, eight months and seventeen days to Day One

Idun lay in her hammock, listening to the waves crash against the bottom of the ship. Like many of the nights this past month, she hadn't slept well. All she could think was that Agdar was waiting. Had she really made a terrible decision to bind herself to the Dutchman?

She didn't know the answer to that question. She thought at the time she was doing the right thing. To go back and check on her daughters. She was their mother after all. She hadn't wanted to leave them, but their cousin was being married, and they needed the support of her kingdom to help prevent Arendelle's suffering. They had so few since Elsa's power had started to manifest itself so strongly.

Thinking of her daughter's plight had her mind wander far enough away that she didn't hear the boots approaching. The first sign of something wrong was when a rough hand shoved a piece of canvas over her mouth. She tried to roll away, but was held down in her hammock. When she tried to open her mouth to scream, the canvas was pushed inside her mouth and no sound came out.

She finally managed to look past the canvas, as she tried to fight his hands holding her down to see it was Travers, the newest recruit. She had never liked the feeling of him looking at her, as if he were planning something, and now he was acting on those plans.

Refusing to let herself go quietly, she managed to get a leg between them and push him back to the hull, while she rolled out of her hammock and pulled her sword. She was ready to run him through before she realized Travers had stopped mid charge, a sword already at his throat. Idun edged around him to find Captain Turner holding the sword, with Rip, Gainey, Owen and Bootstrap rushing towards them, swords already in hand.

"I gave one simple order, Mister Travers. You shall not molest any of my crew or passengers while you serve. Yet here I find you forcing yourself onto one of my crew," he said, his voice low and venom filled.

"You're telling me that none of you fool around with the harlot?" He said, defiance in his voice.

"Travers, I'd sooner lead a charge against a hundred cannibals with my bare hands than harm a hair on her head," Rip said, touching the tip of his sword against the man's shoulder. "I've done much that I'm not proud of, that I'll have to answer to the Father on the day of my Judgment, but harming an innocent woman's virtue will not be one of them."

"Where I come from, women folk are more precious than pounds of gold," Owen said, his hefty sword raised to attack. "If I were still in the Wilderness, I'd wrap you in fresh rawhide and let it dry around you."

"A ladies virtue is a rare and precious thing, you swine!" Gainey spat, his sword against Traver's chest.

"Well Mister Travers, it seems that my crew would rather fight for her honor than impugn it. Which leaves us with the fact that you disobeyed a direct order."

Idun suddenly felt herself drift into a deep fog, then saw her sword arm raise. Swaddled in the mists of her brain, she watched as she began to push Travers at sword point towards the stairs, the crew leaving a gap for Travers to move through. Every man had his sword ready, pushing the condemned man towards his final destination. A plank of wood that had been stuck out of the side of the ship.

"No! Not the Locker!" he gasped, as he was forced out on the plank.

"Aye, the Locker. I condemn you to a thousand years. May Calypso take mercy on you."

Idun was still in her fog as she started up the steps to the plank, each step forcing the condemned man further away. Soon she was even with him, his foot slipping off the end, as he tried to keep from falling off. She saw her arm raise, then shove him backwards, and he fell into the trackless seas and disappeared.

The moment she heard the splash, she felt control return to her body. Lowering her arm, she turned around and quickly walked back aboard the Dutchman, having been scared of falling overboard into the Locker.

"Why couldn't I control myself?"

"Sorry," The captain said, sheathing his sword. "It happens occasionally. My will flows through the ship, I'm as bound to it as you are. Just in different ways. If I get angry enough, everyone on board will enter into a stupor. The mind fogs over, and its my will driving you. In that state, your more monster than person. Like now, you couldn't control yourself, but my will had you force him out and up the ramp, then made him walk the plank.

"I've seen the crew in that state before, before I became captain. My own father couldn't remember me, and we fought until I got the upper hand. Once I had knocked some sense into him, he was able to remember who he was, and he came to my rescue."

"The day he jumped on Davy Jones back?"

"Yes," he said, smiling at the memory. "He was trying to save me. He tried at least, but that's the difficulty in fighting a heartless wretch like Jones. Stab him all you want. Hack, slash, none of it will stop him. Just hurt him, and that makes him madder. Jack stopped him when he was prepared to stab his heart, but Jones stabbed mine instead. My father fought Jones as a distraction, and Jack helped me stab the heart, so I replaced him."

"Jack Sparrow? I heard some of the crew talk of him. He was a friend of yours?"

"Aye, and the hat I gave you your first day belonged to him. He crossed over many years ago. Failed at his life long wish."

"To live forever? Doesn't everyone?"

"Jack was obsessed with it. The cursed treasure of Isla de Muerta, the Fountain of Youth. Even the heart of Davy Jones. All good ways of living a long time, nigh on to forever. But they all carried a price he wasn't willing to pay. He was a good man, and in the end, he paid the death he owed."

"I guess we all have," Idun remarked, thinking of freezing to death in the North Sea.

"Aye, not a day I will likely ever forget. Even if it was over a hundred years ago."

"Thank you, Captain Turner. I've often been afraid of the life I'll lead while serving on this ship, afraid of the things I'll have to do just to see my daughters again. I was worried that men like Travers would treat me like..." she was about to start crying thinking of the degradation she had just escaped.

"Its alright, Idun." William said, wrapping his arms around the now crying woman, "I felt it when he attacked you. I made it an order for everyone to leave you alone. Your safe. Your honor is safe. I ask only that you do a sailors job while your here, and so far you've done well. I'm proud of you for that."

"Its just so strange. I'm a spoiled royal, I understand that. I had title, a birthright, a crown. Now I'm dead, and it's all gone. I'm nothing but a common sailor on a ghost ship."

"You're not 'nothing'. You're a mother to two wonderful daughters. Devoted wife to a caring husband. You've succeeded in surviving something most people have given up hope in."

"What was that?" Idun asked.

"Dying. Most men when they are dying lose hope. They quit fighting. You still had some fight in you when we found you. That's why you were still alive here. You were fighting. And you continue to fight, everyday. That's what it takes to survive. To keep going. Never lose that fire, you'll need it. A hundred and thirty four years. I've still not lived that long on the Dutchman."

"Guess I should quit playing Liar's Dice then."

"And where's the fun in that?"

* * *

A/N - If I don't hear out of anyone soon, asking me to continue with the story of Idun, I'm going to jump ahead to Idun's return to Arendelle.

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Chapter 7 - First Day Ashore (Part 1)**

* * *

Tuesday - August 11, 1846 – Day 1

Queen Idun – Flying Dutchman

Idun stood on the railing, most of the crew stood with her, as they all stared at the setting sun. In minutes, it would set, and they would be allowed to cross over, to go where they would for one day. Idun watched the sun, her thoughts already on her daughters Elsa and Anna. She had cleaned and repaired her dress, as it was the best quality clothing she had. She also had put her sword, hat, belt and her other effects in a trunk where she slept. She would be returning to her daughters just as she left, though after nearly five years at sea, her hands had long since hardened from the tough work.

Idun was staring so intently on the setting sun, that she didn't hear Bootstrap climb up beside her. "Just keep your thoughts on where you want to go, but remember, we can only go as far as the shoreline."

Idun turned to face Bootstrap, a smile on her lips. "Thank you, Bootstrap. I know exactly where I want to go. There's a small staircase that exists solely as an escape route in case of attack by land. It leads to a rowboat kept in a hidden dock under the castle, and that's where I'm going to appear."

Bootstrap nodded, "Good. Just remember, when you're ready to return, just submerge yourself in the ocean, and think your way back to here. Calypso will be waiting for you. If you need to, you can come back early, just as long as you are back before sunset the next day. William would throw you in the locker if you're not back in time."

"I'll be back, but it will be nice to see my daughters again. Elsa will have taken the throne by now. She and Anna ought to be somewhere in our castle."

"Well, good luck to you," he said, as the sun fell below the horizon, then as one, all the crew jumped overboard.

Idun thought hard about her daughters, and about the hidden dock under the castle. As she hit the water, she was surprised to be coming out of the water, and land on the dock. It was only by spending years in the rigging that she was able to regain her balance by bending her legs, and she was surprised that it felt alien to be on solid ground again.

Gathering up her dress, she hurried up the stairs, soon finding herself on the ground floor of the castle. Opening the portrait from the backside and stepping through, she found herself standing in the familiar throne room. Though the area was empty, Idun found it was surprisingly clean, as if used recently. Leaving the throne room, she went out into the main hall, soon finding a young maid that was pushing a trolley.

"Excuse me, where might I find Queen Elsa?"

The young maid looked at Idun for a second, then pointed to the staircase that led to the second floor. "Her highness, the queen, is currently with Princess Anna and Kristoff in the study."

'The study,' Idun thought. "Thank you," she said, then proceeded up the stairs, and soon found herself outside the study. Pausing outside, she collected herself, and then knocked on the door.

"Enter," said a cheery voice.

Idun turned the knob to see three people in the room, and although no one was facing her, knew two of the people sitting as Elsa and Anna. She entered the room, and heard the two girls start to giggle, although their voices were too low to hear. She came closer and began to make out what was being said.

"...never would have thought they'd have been so harsh." Anna said, her still smiling face radiant as she talked with the other two.

"Well, they kind of had to, unless they wanted to start a war with Arendelle. From what my ambassadors have told me, since the problem at my coronation, even the great navy of the British are hesitant to attack Arendelle ships. I think everyone is afraid of me."

More giggling was heard, and Idun began to wonder what the problem was at Elsa's coronation, quickly deciding that at the public event, Elsa had either purposefully or accidentally revealed her powers. That she was still here now, and happy told Idun that it had ended peacefully. At least for Arendelle at least.

Finally close enough to the three assembled people to clearly identify them, she could see that third person was a broad shouldered man, though his clothes were fancy, didn't bear the marks of nobility or military. Anna and his arms were also around each other, as Anna leaned against him on the sofa, telling Idun that this was possibly either Anna's husband or fiance. Elsa sat in a high back chair, facing the fireplace, and nowhere around her were there any signs of ice.

As Idun watched, she saw Elsa pick up a porcelain cup and saucer, noticing now that Elsa wasn't wearing gloves, and was about to take a sip when she saw Idun. The cup and saucer fell to the floor, shattering, as Elsa's face showed the shock she felt.

"Mother!"

"Hello, Elsa. I'm home."

The three people suddenly stood, all backing away from Idun, with Elsa and Anna looking pale, while the guy with them looked unsure. "Stay back! I mean it, I will attack you!" shouted Elsa, her arms already half raised and sparkles of ice appearing around her hands.

"Well, I'm glad you finally learned to control your power. I remember a very scared thirteen year old girl who used to stand in the corner of her room, afraid of hurting me."

At those words, the ice around Elsa's hands disappeared, but the hands remained half raised to Idun.

"Mother? How? They said you were lost at see. No one was found alive."

"I serve on the Flying Dutchman."

"The ghost ship?" All three began to cross themselves, but Idun just stood by the sofa, nodding to them.

"Yes, my job is to help ferry souls to the world that comes after this one. Once every ten years, we are allowed to return home, if we want. It's not based on our service, but our captain's, and today is the day I am allowed to return home."

"Mother?" Anna asks, starting to edge around her sister.

"Yes, Anna. It's me. I know it's been longer than two weeks," Idun said, then looking at Elsa, "but we had to go to your cousin's wedding. To not to go would have been rude, and we had so few friends at the time."

Idun barely saw Anna cross the distance between them, before she was wrapped around her mother. Elsa was slower, her arms finally lowered, until she was also hugging her mother. The guy that was with them, just smiled from where he stood, waiting until everyone was done hugging. When they finally broke apart, it was Anna who introduced the last person in the room.

"Mother, this is Kristoff. He's my husband."

"Don't worry mother, I actually made her court this one for a year before I let them get married."

Idun just looked at her daughters, before starting to giggle. "I'm afraid you're going to have to fill me in on what's been going on since I left."

-o-0-o-

"From what I hear, his brothers have him mucking out the royal horse stalls. Then my ambassador in the Southern Isles sent me a message not long after Anna's last birthday. Apparently my sneeze into the birthday horn sent a snowball all the way to the Southern Isles. Prince Hans was pulled from the manure, still covered in snow in the middle of summer."

"They fear you," Idun said,

"Arendelle is untouchable. I think they're all afraid I'll freeze their countries if they go to war, and the admirals are afraid I'll crush their ships should they try to blockade our harbor or shoot snowballs at them and break their masts."

"Is that a good thing?"

The four stopped talking, while they pondered their answers, and then listened to the mantle clock as it struck only once.

"My, look at the time. No wonder we're having difficulty thinking. Let's all go to bed, we can continue this conversation in the morning," Elsa said, as she stood and smoothed her simple dress.

"But mother is only here for the day!" Anna exclaimed, jumping to her feet so suddenly that Kristoff nearly fell into the empty spot she left behind.

"We all still need our sleep, Anna. You'll be better able to enjoy our time together in the morning."

"But I'm," Anna started, then had to give in to the yawn, "even sleepy yet."

Idun laughed, and hugged her tired daughter. "Get some sleep, Anna. Otherwise your husband is liable to sleep without you."

Anna quickly looked back to Kristoff, who was stretching his tall and broad body, yawning the entire time. Anna quickly went to hug him, and together, arm in arm headed for the door.

"Breakfast is at seven!"

"Breakfast is at eight!" Elsa called back, laughing as Anna and Kristoff left. "She's happy."

"Yes, she is. She was so lonely without you, but I understood why you and Agdar took the routes you did with your training. I see now, that it was a wrong route. You needed the normalcy, the love, of growing up in a loving family, with your sister by your side. I can see now we actually did you a disservice."

"Mother," Elsa said, coming to stand by her mother, "What normalcy could I have had while remembering what I did accidentally to Anna. What if during my teenage years while being 'normal' I were to become enraged at Anna and do something in anger. Might I not have killed her?"

"Maybe, the past is always difficult to determine. Remember, a single choice might mean the difference of life and death tomorrow. While I am glad you don't have to live in fear of your powers being discovered, to openly flaunt them in the face of the military?"

Elsa looked away, and went to stand by the window. "I lost the ability to hide it when I froze the kingdom over. All the guests," she lowered her head, looking down at her hands in front of her, "There was no way to re-cork that bottle. I would have had to have all of them beheaded, and too many were high ranking nobles from other powerful nations. So I let them go, and let them carry the message that Arendelle is protected by a magic so powerful that no one could stop me.

"They captured me, mother. Locked me up, and still my power couldn't be stopped. They know now the only way I can be stopped is probably by my death. But to kill a reigning queen, that means they have to go to war, and quite frankly mother, we just aren't that big compared to the other kingdoms," Elsa said, pacing in front of a window. "We are so often overlooked in trading deals that most nobles I meet with are surprised I'm of royal birth."

"I guess our isolation for over ten years didn't help."

"No, it didn't. While waiting for my twenty first birthday, I often thought of marrying Anna to a noble just to keep our name in the gossip circles. When Anna came to me and told me that she and Prince Hans wanted to get married, I actually thought he wasn't good enough for her. That the Southern Isles were too small to help Arendelle. Then, when I thought I was losing it all, that I would have to flee the known world to spare Arendelle from my what I might do, I blessed their marriage, only to be told I had killed her. That was probably the first time in my life I didn't have anything to fear, the first time I knew there was no one left for me to hurt. If it hadn't been for Anna's interference, I would have let him kill me, because without Anna," Elsa stopped, staring out of the window she had been pacing in front of, "life wasn't worth living."

"Life should always be lived, Elsa," Idun said, placing a hand on Elsa's shoulder. "Take it from someone who's seen plenty of people pass on to the next world. It was what I wanted for you, ever since you were a little girl holding on to the hem of my dress. I'm glad Anna has Kristoff, though he seems to be overshadowed by Anna's exuberance."

"Kristoff makes Anna happy, as happy as I've ever seen her since we were children," Elsa said, turning back to look at her mother.

Idun stopped looking at Elsa as she noticed trails of ice creeping up the window. "Yes, so what are you afraid of?"

"Afraid?" Elsa said, then looked around and noticed she was spreading ice. With a wave of her hand, and a giggle she made the ice disappear. "Let's not tell Anna about that."

"The question still stands."

"It's Eve's curse," Elsa said, wrapping her arms around her middle, "I didn't used to notice because I never had that much control of my power anyway. Now, though, I tend to notice when my emotions run from scared to happy to terrified in seconds."

"Elsa," Idun said, standing up and wrapping her arms around her daughter, "You shouldn't keep any secrets from your sister. You know how that turned out before."

"Yes," Elsa said, hanging her head, "not very well."

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Chapter 7 - First Day Ashore (Part 2)**

* * *

Part 2

Idun left her room twenty minutes later after her morning bath, fully dressed in a nice dress and freshly oiled shoes. For the first time she felt truly clean. Entering the dining hall, she walked to where the servants were placing the morning's breakfast. Idun was suddenly unsure where to sit, when the door once again opened, and Elsa walked in, a picture of stately grace.

"Morning mother."

"Morning Elsa. Anna still not one for waking up in the morning?"

"Kristoff will have her here on time, I promise."

Idun was about to wonder how Elsa could be so sure when the door was nearly thrown off its hinges by Anna. Anna barely stopped inside the doors long enough to scan the room, then sprinted across the room to hug Idun. "Oh, I was so afraid it was a dream!"

"It's not a dream, Anna," Idun said, wrapping her arms around her youngest daughter. "I'm here till sunset."

"Sunset!" Anna cried, looking up into her mother's face. "Then what?"

"I have to return to the Dutchman. But I'll be back in ten years."

"Ten years! It's just so long!"

"If it helps, I can always look in on my granddaughter, and great granddaughter when the day comes."

"Great Granddaughter? You'll be here that long?"

"A hundred years is a long time," Idun explained. "Plus I'm always winning more. There's little to keep me from being around in two hundred years, constantly keeping track of the family."

"Well, let's eat, I'm hungry," Anna said after noticing Elsa and Kristoff were already seated. "So, what are we going to do today?"

"I've already canceled every meeting I had today," Elsa said. "I've got the kitchens preparing a picnic for us."

"Ooh, a picnic! But wait, won't everyone get mad?" Anna asked, as she started to eat. Kristoff stayed silent, eating his breakfast in silence.

"There is always something that needs reviewed, or signed. They can spare me for a day so that I might visit with our mother."

"Remember Elsa. A queen has many responsibilities to her people. One of those, is that you do not overwork yourself. You must always be fit of both mind and body." Idun didn't need to eat, almost sad that she couldn't partake of the delicious smelling food.

"Yes, mother," Elsa said, as she picked at her food. "Mother, what happened to father?"

Idun looked at Elsa, "That's a question that's taken me years to understand. The easiest answer is that you father accepted his death."

"Accepted?" Anna asked, her face scrunched up in thought.

Idun sighed. "When a person dies, they have two options. They can accept that they are about to die, or they can fight it. The night our ship sank in the North Sea, we hit a wave that turned our ship over. One of the carronade broke from its mounting and fell towards us. In that moment, Agdar must have accepted his death. After the ship rolled over, I kicked for the surface. I never saw anyone come up, so I latched on to a barrel and wondered what would happen next. I fought my death.

"I was still alive when the Dutchman pulled me from the water. I was freezing, so cold it seemed I would never be warm again. It was difficult to even think then. That's when I was asked the question. To serve, or to accept my fate. It didn't seem real then, but I was told if I served, I could return home once every ten years. That's where fighting my death got me."

"I know how you feel about the cold," Anna said, a tear running down her cheek. "When I was about to freeze out on the fjord, that's how I felt. My fingers were blue, and not moving. I was so close to giving in when the blizzard ended. I saw Kristoff, then I heard Hans pull his sword."

Kristoff put an arm around his wife, "I'd say you accepted your death, Anna. But in doing so, you made it mean something. You blocked Hans from killing your sister. You didn't know you were going to turn to ice before the sword landed. You could have been cleaved in two! But you accepted you were going to die, and you made sure your sister wouldn't."

"I know I accepted mine," Elsa said. "When Hans said Anna had already frozen, I just wanted it to end. I didn't want to live with that pain."

"Seems royals accept their death. I've been out on the ice and fell through several times, but I've never accepted I was going to die. I fought back, pushed myself to keep going. Nearly froze myself stiff, but I kept walking. That's why I'm still alive," Kristoff said, his hand covering his wife's in a show of support.

"I'd say it's in how we're raised, Kristoff. A royal's life is dedicated to their people. Even our marriages are usually in support of the kingdom. We accept that, and maybe we accept too much. If I've never said so before now, I'm glad you are a part of our family. You make Anna happy."

"Thank you, your majesty."

"I'll write the proclamation tomorrow," Elsa said, attempting to change the course of the conversation. "I'll have your title switched to Queen Mother."

"I think I'm past titles, Elsa. It might be best, if we don't advertise that I've returned."

"But, mother!" Anna exclaimed.

"People might think you two have lost your minds, or that you are summoning the dead. Both are not acceptable to the people."

"But," Anna whined, "I don't want you to go!"

"Anna," Idun soothed, "I wish I could stay too. Live out the rest of my days with my daughters. I can't. I'm bound by the curse to serve. I have to return at sunset."

"What happens if you don't?" Kristoff asked, probably for Anna's benefit as she was on the verge of tears.

"Something not very pleasant," Elsa quickly said, "Or I assume so anyway."

"Thank you, Elsa. Why don't we talk about where we're going to go for our picnic?"

"Oh, I got that planned already. Open meadow, lots of room to run. Let's talk about what we're going to wear!" Elsa said grinning, as she stood up and instantly changed her clothes to green patterned sun dress.

-o-0-o-

The rest of the morning and early afternoon passed swiftly for the four people. Elsa had everyone in more comfortable clothing before they even exited the dining hall. They took a carriage out past the city gates to an open meadow. They spent the day playing in the snow Elsa made, then watched as Elsa crafted life-like statues of them all, including a small snowman they said was Olaf and one that resembled a towering monster that Anna said was called Marshmallow. A telescope was also brought and Idun could barely make out the dazzling jewel on top of North Mountain.

"That's the Ice Castle," Elsa explained as her mother stood with the spy glass. "In the evening, when the sun has a chance to shine through it, it dazzles so brightly that it can be seen from the Palace."

"That's beautiful architecture. I'm proud."

"Thanks," Elsa blushed. She was glad to get the praise of her mother. "I'd been planning one since I was thirteen. I wanted to build it so I could get away from people. So my power wouldn't harm anyone."

"Funny, all those years I thought you hated me," Anna quipped in.

"That's just how much I loved you. I locked myself away so I could never harm you, even by accident."

Idun looked at the setting sun. Experience had taught her that in a little over an hour it would be time. Turning to her family, she smiled at the picture they made. Elsa sat on her heels, her dress pulled neatly around her, while Anna's dress was more tussled from moving and fidgeting a lot. Kristoff was stretched beside his wife, and looked ready to fall asleep. She hated to end this perfect moment, but it was time.

"I think we should head to the beach," Idun said, collapsing the telescope into itself.

"The beach? But it's too cold to be swimming," Anna said.

"Is it that time already," Elsa asked, looking towards the sinking sun.

"It will be by the time we get there, I dare not be late."

"Promise me you'll return this time?" Anna said, getting up and wrapping herself around Idun.

"In ten years, to the day. I'll return to the throne room."

"You better, or I'm going to get the Arendelle Navy and go after you!"

That got them all laughing, and after putting their picnic supplies away, they rode in the carriage to the beach. Idun was glad no one was nearby to see her walk into the sea and not return. She didn't want anyone to have to explain her disappearance.

"So how does this work? You just walk out and sink?" Anna wondered.

"All I have to do is sink beneath the water, and will myself back to the Dutchman. The goddess Calypso will take care of the rest."

"Heathen gods? Mother really," Elsa said, trying to keep a straight face.

"Calypso is the god we look to during our work. She's the reason I got here without a ship."

"At least you have someone watching out for you," Kristoff added.

"It is comforting."

They talked a few minutes more until the sun was almost set. Idun could feel it, like a band being stretched in her brain. Anna kept herself wrapped around Idun, as if she could physically keep her mother from going away again. Elsa herself kept wiping tears from the corner of her eyes when she thought Idun wasn't looking. Kristoff seemed to be the bravest of the three, but he also knew Idun the least.

Finally, the band in her head snapped and the gold of the sun slipped below the water. "It's time."

"Promise me you'll come back?" Anna asked, on the verge of tears.

"Of course, Anna. I'll come back. And I want there to be grandchildren waiting for me."

That made Anna and Kristoff blush, while Elsa giggled. She was secretly glad her mother hadn't given her the third degree about not being married yet. "Do you want me to change you into something more suitable for sailing?"

"If you would. The captain's probably going to want to get under way when we all get back."

Elsa waved her hand, and Idun felt the clothing she wore change and shift. Her corset disappeared, replaced by a blue silk shirt and form fitting black vest. Her dress was gone, replaced by black trousers. Her shoes also shifted into well fitting calf high boots. Her hair fell from its well wrapped bun to hang behind her back, and a hat materialized on her head. She looked down at herself, then up to Elsa who formed a mirror for her.

Idun was amazed at how well Elsa could control her power. The hat she noted was a heavy leather tricorn, though smaller than the one she normally wore, This one also had a purple plume that run from the front to the back. Instead of a belt, she had a sash of red silk tied around her waist. She was very dashing, though the colors meant little other than she'd be easily identified in the rigging.

Elsa seemed to study her a moment, then waved her arm again, and a black leather peacoat that ran to her thighs appeared on her, though it seemed a bit tight to actually button up. The look though was stunning. Once she donned her belt and sword, she'd be ready for anything.

Finally, the band in her head snapped and the gold of the sun slipped below the water. Idun looked away from the mirror to check the sun. "It's time."

"Kids, right?" Anna said, hugging Idun all the tighter.

"Yes, kids. Elsa, you need to learn to live. Don't let the crown keep you from having fun. Kristoff, protect them. They are the only family I have left."

"With my life."

Idun began walking into the waves. When the water was to her knees, she looked back. The three were standing together, Anna in Kristoff's arms, while Elsa had an arm around Anna's shoulders. They were perfect together. With that last look, Idun turned and took one more step into the water, then dove under. She instantly found herself flying through the air to land on the Dutchman.

"Leave it to a woman to spend the day making herself look pretty," Will said, stepping forward out of the small knot of crew as they gathered from their trip ashore.

"Five years with you lot takes a lot of scrubbing to get clean again. I just got dressed," Idun joked.

That got the crew laughing. A wind picked up, and Will cocked his head as if listening to something. Idun was about to ask what their orders were when she heard a whisper, as if being carried on the wind. She looked around, but couldn't place where the whisper had come from.

"Hear something?" Will asked.

"I thought I heard a whisper, but..."

"It's Calypso. She sends me messages on the wind. If you listen, you should be able to hear her."

Idun listened as the wind picked up, the whisper more discernible now that she was listening for it. Idun looked puzzled though, and Will knew why. Calypso rarely gave direct advice. Kind of insufferable that way. "What did she say?"

"A touch," Idun said, "of destiny?"

Will jumped looked out over the railing of the Dutchman, eyes scanning the horizon. "First time I ever heard her tell me that, we had just met. She knew my name, without anyone ever having told her. She was right too. Within a few months I did do something world changing. I stabbed the heart of Davy Jones, and took his place as captain. That ended the East India Trading Company's hold over Jones. We managed to turn an entire armada back. And Calypso knew all that was in the offing, when I myself was nothing but a simple pirate and blacksmith."

"From a simple pirate to captain of the most infamous ship at sea. Quite a tale," Bootstrap said. "Which begs the question. What's does Calypso see in the offing for Idun."

"Time will only tell, father," Will said, looking back at his crew. "Let's get to work."

* * *

 **Chapter 9: Chapter 8**

* * *

Chapter 8

February 19, 1856

Though the day ashore was close at hand, the crew of the Dutchman worked steadily at their job. Idun, since she had been taught how to listen to the wind to hear Calypso speaking, had been promoted. She occasionally, like today, found herself at the wheel of the Dutchman. She listened as the wind picked up, letting the whisper guide her as she piloted the ship on the trackless seas. She was highly anticipating the evening when she'd be allowed her one day ashore.

Captain William Turner stood not far off, listening to the wind. Not liking what she was hearing. Calypso was bringing them the sounds of ship's battling, and she could sense that soon she would be walking in the real world again, to collect the souls of the recently slain.

 _It is time._

Idun nodded absently to herself, the cannon fire had subsided, and all was still.

"Dive!" the captain ordered.

With a violent pitch, the Dutchman sank into the water. The crew absorbed into the ship to make the journey. Idun was aware of the ship as it rolled while underwater, and then surfaced. She was the first to stand on the deck, surveying the ship they were about to raid. Without word the crew immediately began to haul the sails. Idun brought the Dutchman alongside the other ship just as the crew swung over and tied off the bowlines. Secured, the rest of the crew swung over, climbing the rigging to haul sail.

Sword in hand, she swung over to the other ship. That's when the first of the men came out from the hold of the ship, a gun in hand. Idun was closest, still on the deck. She raised her sword, knowing the one shot pistol would only stun her. The pistol barked once, Idun stumbled momentarily, then grinned. Then the pistol barked three more times. That gave Idun pause, as she fell to the deck. Four shots? What demon sorcery was this?

Idun began to pick herself up, the man's face going slack as he saw Idun regain her feet. The man raised his gun again but Idun swung her cutlass, knocking the gun to the side. She swung for him next, but he rolled, coming up with his sword in hand. He charged the smaller woman, and he made his mistake. Idun allowed her wrist to go slack, letting the curved blade slide past the other man's charge to slice his arm. With his arm now limp, he had no way to block Idun's next slice, which dropped him to the deck.

Idun went over and picked up the pistol, noting the smaller, and shorter barrel. The hammer was also directly behind the barrel, not to the side. Cocking the hammer, she saw the drum behind the barrel rotate. Once the hammer was full cocked, she looked the pistol over again. The weight was about the same, just a few pounds, but the grip was better.

She heard a man yell, and looked up to see a man charging at her. She raised the pistol, squeezing the trigger like she'd been taught by Rip. The gun bucked in her hand, and the bullet hit him in the chest, dropping him until he was taken aboard the Dutchman.

Recocking the pistol, she looked down the booby hatch. Rip and Gainey landed behind her, having secured the rigging. "Have you seen these new pistols," she asked, holding the gun up to Rip.

"They look like pinfire," Rip said, examining it. "I'll look at it later. Maybe I can figure out how to reload it."

Idun stashed the pistol in her belt, then the four continued down the booby hatch, swords in hand. At the bottom of the stairs, the four headed in different directions, looking for survivors. Idun checked several of the cabins, finding several people who had been killed by being ran though with a sword or shot. In one room, Idun found a small family of five. Several holes in the hull gave enough light to see by. Idun checked each one, though she was sad to see the fate of the children.

She was just about to walk out when she thought she heard a sniffle. She looked around, then went over to a wardrobe. There was a hole in it, from a cannonball, so she opened it up, finding a girl inside. She was holding on to life, but just barely. Idun checked her, finding several pieces of the wardrobe lodged in her stomach. She pulled them out, getting barely a whimper from the girl. Idun then pulled her arm over her shoulder and lifted her up, holding most of the girls weight on her shoulder.

Idun then carried her up to the deck and over to the Dutchman, placing her down near the railing with two other men. She started to come around, and looked up at Idun. "Who are you?"

Idun knelt beside the young girl, noting her thick brogue. Irish or Scottish, she thought, having met some of the dignitaries of those nations during her time. "I'm Idun. This is the Flying Dutchman."

The girl looked around the ship, taking it all in. "Did the captain survive?"

Idun looked over at the devastated ship. "I don't know. Not many did."

Idun continued to study the girl, guessing she was about fourteen. Her sand colored hair was stringy and held back in a crude pony tail, while her clothes were full of small rips she guessed were from shrapnel during the fight, whether it be wooden or exploding cannonball. She was shorter than Idun, by at least a hand, but already well muscled from work. Her skin was also tanned where Idun could see it, meaning she wasn't the daughter of a wealthy man, but worked for a living.

After several moments, the captain came over, sizing up the three survivors. "Are you afraid? Do you fear the what is to come? I can offer you an escape. To hold off what is to come. Serve a hundred years, and forestall what is to come."

Idun watched the girl, she'd never seen many children survive to the Dutchman, most chose to pass on with their families if they hadn't passed over already. But here, now, this one didn't have anyone to make that decision for her. The girl's blue eyes kept looking steadily at Idun.

"I'll do it," she said.

"What's your name, miss," William asked.

"Saoirse. Saoirse Ahern from Kanturk.

"Idun, take her down to the slop. Get her dressed."

"Yes sir." Idun then helped the girl to her feet and led her down the hatch to the slop chest. It took a bit of rummaging to find some clothes for her small frame, being even smaller than Idun. Bootstrap by then had brought down a second hammock for her and tied it up above Idun's. Alone behind the partition, Saoirse was able to change.

"How long you been on this ship?" she asked Idun.

"Fourteen years now. It will be fifteen in September."

"So long? Some lovely young lad steal your heart?"

Idun laughed softly, "No. My ship sank in the North Sea, every member of the crew died. I was pulled from the water, clinging to a barrel."

"That's so sad. I can see why you like it here. They be giving you privacy, and safety. I was headed for New York. The captain had a friend there, was going to get me employed at a boarding house. I was going to be there for ten years, then I be free."

"Indentured?"

"Aye, me ma and da were havin' troubles an it was just easier to move on. I jus' wish me family coulda come with me," she said, finally having gotten dressed.

"Well, you'll be able to see them again in a few months. It's when we'll be allowed to go home."

"Allowed? You mean we'll actually go to Ireland?"

"Well, you can. I'm headed home to Arendelle. My daughters will want to see me, and I'm hoping that there are grandchildren waiting for me."

"Grandchildren? You truly must've started younger than me to be a granma already."

"I was eighteen when I married Agdar. We had our first daughter less than a year later. Within three years, Anna was born. Anna married a Sami gentleman over nine years ago."

"You haven' been home in nine years? I thought you said we'd go home soon?"

"We will. Once every ten years, we spend one day ashore. That day comes in August."

"Am I missin' somethin' here? I agree to serve your captain for savin' me life, told I'd get to go home to see me ma an' da soon, but now you're saying we don't get to go home again for ten years?! What kinnae ship is this?"

"The Flying Dutchman. The infamous ghost ship that ferries souls to the world beyond." Idun said. Does she not know of the Dutchman?

"Ghost…But I'm not dead!"

"We are neither truly dead, nor alive. Some state of eternal dying, I think."

"How did I die? I remember me hidin' in the wardrobe, and you findin' me, but..."

"Cannonball hit the wardrobe. You were dying of your injuries when I found you. I pulled the wooden pieces out of you, and brought you over."

"So I really am dead?"

"Yes. And you are bound to this ship. It seems steep I know. One day ashore for every ten years at sea. Bound to serve for a hundred years."

"A hundred years," she said, then started counting on her fingers, after the second round, she looked back at Idun.

"A hundred years? Even if I had a wee one, fresh born right now, she'd be..." The moment was really getting to Saoirse, she was on her knees crying.

"Her own daughter's daughter would be dying of old age before your time was up." Idun knelt beside her, wrapping an arm around the girl as she tried to come to terms with the choice. Idun was sympathetic towards the girl, making a choice in ignorance, not even understanding the time a hundred years was. It really drove home the difference between them. Idun was a royal, given education and training better than most could hope to ever learn. Saoirse was a commoner, barely able to count, probably couldn't write her own name if she tried. And she had just made a decision that would affect her for years.

Idun vowed to help her and her family as best she could when she got back to Arendelle.

After a long while, Saoirse finally quit crying. Idun helped her to her feet, and led her back up to the deck. The crew were carrying over the last of the supplies that they were going to take, shot, powder, rope, clothing, canvas and anything else that might be useful. As had been pointed out to her, it's not like they could just make port.

"Saoirse, is there anything important you'd like to take?" the captain asked, walking up them.

"Aye, there be a hope chest in me cabin. Me da made it for me when I got the deal to go to America."

"Which part?" Rip asked, as he lugged a powder keg on his shoulder.

"New York."

"Beautiful city. Been there a few times."

"Ever heard of a place called The Painted Orchid?"

"That I have, and its no place for a beautiful swab like you."

"It's not? I was supposed to indenture there."

"Indenture? The Painted Orchid is no place for a woman. Trust me on that, swab."

"What? Just because I'm a girl?"

"Idun, a little help here please," Rip said, looking lost.

Idun pondered it a moment, then figured it out. The Painted Orchid might have use for a beautiful young girl like Saoirse, but it was one that didn't exactly have honorable intentions for said girl.

"Saoirse, have you ever heard the story of Oholah and Oholibah in the book of Ezekiel?"

"Aye," she said, then her eyes went wide. "That's what my indenture was!"

"Yes," Idun said.

"You're going to have to explain that story to me some day, Idun," Rip said, before he disappeared down the hatch.

The girl turned to the captain, "Did the captain survive the attack?"

"No. He passed on. I am sorry that you were deceived, though. At least he can't deceive anymore young girls. Now, do you know how to sail?"

"Fine lot of good that does me. And no. I've never seen water so wide I could nae yell across it before I got on that ship."

The captain turned to Idun. "Idun, I want you to teach her as Mister Turner taught you."

"Yes, sir. Come along, Saoirse, let's get your chest. Then we can start with knots."

"Not what?"

* * *

 **Chapter 10: Chapter 9 - Second Day Ashore (Part 1)**

* * *

Chapter 09 - Part 1

Monday, August 11, 1856 – Day Ashore Number 2

Sunset was nearing, the sails had already been stowed and the anchor dropped. Saoirse stood in a dress that Idun had helped her make from bolts of silk taken from Chinese junks. The Irish girl had never worked with material so fine, and had to be taught how to delicately sew the material. It was far more difficult to work with than any other cloth, as it was so fine and lightweight, but the result was a very beautiful dress indeed.

Idun also stood at the rails. She, along with many of the crew had acquired several of the new Navy Colt revolvers. The small caliber guns were rather handy in taking a ship, being as they could fire several times without needing to be reloaded. Many of the sailors simply modified the bandoliers they had so that the new pistols would fit across their bodies. Idun herself had finally made a double set of bandoliers to carry two pistols on her person, with a third, smaller pistol on her right hip.

"Are you ready to head home?" Idun asked Saoirse, as the two watched the sun as it started to slip under the water.

"Aye, too bad we don' live closer to the shore, though. The closest river I can think of to me home is still hours away."

 _The pond...by her home...she can go there_.

"She be talkin' to ye again, isn' she?" Saoirse asked.

"Yes, she said that you can head straight for the pond by your house. You can appear there and save yourself the hours long trip."

"That be a relief," she sighed. "I cannae wait to see me family."

"I know, I miss my daughters terribly. Just a few more moments."

Once the last of the golden sun dipped below the horizon, the crew as one dove into the water. Saoirse thought of the pond that was used to water the livestock and found herself landing on the dry bank. On solid ground, she glanced around for her family, to see her sister, Maire, heading for the barn to milk the cows.

"Maire! I be home!" she called to the young girl.

The girl whirled at the sound of her sister, before dropping the bucket she carried and ran back inside. Soon her family was pouring through the door running towards her.

"Saoirse! I thought you'd be in America!" her mom cried as the older woman wrapped her arms around her eldest daughter.

"I never made it. Me ship was attacked by pirates. I cannae stay long, only till sunset tomorrow."

"Such finery, ye be wearin' lass. Did ye marry well?" her father asked, as he hugged his returning daughter.

"No, da. Me story be much sadder than that. Our fight with the pirates didnae go well. I was wounded badly by the cannons. Truth be told, I be dead now."

"Dead? But ye be standin' here?"

"I was rescued by the Flying Dutchman. It's a ship that carries the dead to the other side. I serve it as a sailor now. For a hundred years more, me job is to sail the seas."

"A hundred years? Ye better come inside an explain it to us. I reckon ye have a lot to say," her father said, guiding her inside the family home.

Saoirse was glad to be home. Though she knew she had a lot to explain, she couldn't think of anywhere she'd rather be than solid ground.

-o-0-o-

Idun couldn't wait to be home. As she found herself flying through the air, a sense of wrongness came over her. That sense became reality as her feet failed to find purchase and she slipped off the dock and fell back to the water. With a thump she landed on something solid and slid into something very cold. Turning on her back, she tried to guage if she was in the right place.

She saw the familiar dock, but it was being crushed under falling rock. Idun looked up to see the last rays of the sun as they shrank across the sky.

That can't be right, she thought. The castle…

With a snap, she realized the castle was gone. Struggling to her feet, she looked around again. Everywhere she looked, snow and ice covered everything. Even the fjord was frozen over. She walked haltingly out from the little bay to see if it was only this section of the castle that was damaged, and found the castle nothing but a ruin.

"What happened?" she breathed. Elsa, she thought. Elsa must have frozen everything again. But if that's the case, where is she? And where is Anna and Kristoff?

She struggled to walk towards the shoreline, trying to find someone. She looked around the darkening sky for anyone when she heard a small voice ahead of her. She walked on, slipping on the smooth ice of the fjord until she found a strange sight indeed. A snowman was skating. She was almost certain that she was seeing things when she remembered Elsa having made one once. She decided to try and talk to it.

"Excuse me, can you help me?"

The snowman stopped skating and slid forward a little, his small face lit up in joy as he noticed Idun. "I'd be glad to help! No one wants to talk to me anymore."

"Thank you. I'm looking for Elsa and Anna. Do you know where they are?"

At that the snowman's face fell. "Anna's dead."

Idun fell to her knees at that. "Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure Anna is dead?

"Yea. She was giving birth when everyone started screaming. They said there was blood everywhere. Then Elsa froze everything. Even I felt cold and I'm made of snow. They had a funeral for her, but I couldn't go. Nobody wants me around anymore. Not even Elsa. I sometimes put flowers on Anna's burial stone, but then I have to leave before they attack me."

Idun felt like crying at what the snowman said. It was every expecting mother's worst fear, to die in childbirth. What the snowman described Idun had heard of before, during her own pregnancy with Elsa. It was known as a breech birth, when the baby was born feet first instead of head first. It was dangerous because the feet had a tendency to catch as they were born, and ripped a mother's delicate insides. This caused a mother to bleed out, usually proving fatal before anything could be done to save the mother. Even a trained physician wasn't able to save the mother most of the time if he was at hand to begin with. And with Elsa being there, Idun could clearly see the effect losing her sister must have had.

Elsa must have taken it rather poorly, her icy powers unleashed to freeze everything. Destroy everything. Whether it was in rage or grief she had yet to figure out.

Well, Elsa had sulked long enough. She was still Queen of Arendelle, and that came with a duty to the people. This winter had lasted long enough.

"Can you take me to Elsa?" Idun asked.

"Yea, she's at her castle on top of North Mountain. No one ever goes up there, though. The storms get pretty bad at night."

"I'm not worried about the storms. How long will it take to get there?"

"If we keep walking, we can be there tomorrow night. I know the best way up and down. I used to live there with Marshmallow and the Snowglies."

Tomorrow night? She knew she was risking the Locker if she didn't get back to the Dutchman before sunset. But Elsa needed her, and with a grim heart, she vowed she'd spend eternity in Hell before she lost another child because she wasn't there. "Lead on, please."

"Ok. What's your name? And why do you dress like a guy?" the snowman asked, as it led her down the shore and around the village.

"Idun, and I'm a sailor on the Dutchman. What's your name?"

"I'm Olaf. Idun? Wait, your Elsa's mom!" he said excitedly. "You came back! They said you would, but it would be a long time and I'd have to wait till then to see you."

"Ten years I've waited to come home. Did Elsa and," Idun choked back a sob at the mention of her late daughter. "Did she tell you I was coming back?"

"Yea. I usually don't stay down here too long in summer. If Elsa loses concentration, my flurry goes away and I melt."

"So why did she send you away?"

"Marshmallow said it was because I remind her of Anna. He also said if I came back he was going to shred me into little snowballs."

Idun just nodded, as the little snowman led her around the village. She imagined it was still inhabited, but she saw nothing moving, and no lights were lit that she could see. It looked pretty desolate, really. After an hour, they came to the far end of the village and they started walking through the woods. Idun kept a hand on her pistol, ready to engage anything that threatened her. However, as the night wore on, it was increasingly clear that nothing roamed these woods anymore. No sound of animals scampering, or calling to each other reached her ears.

Throughout the night, a steady wind pelted her with fresh, falling snow. Sometimes it was so bad that she could not see the trees as they passed by. Olaf simply took her hand and led her on, steadily climbing the surrounding hills onto the mountain.

At dawn, Idun looked back over a small hill to see the old town. It was just as desolate as it seemed, but she could see a few small figures move about in the early light. She turned and once again followed Olaf up the mountain, glad the snowman knew the trail up so easily. She was also glad that the sun had come up, bringing her new energy for the day. She also knew that once the sun set again, she was going to be needing a rest, wherever that found her.

Olaf kept up a constant prattle that Idun mostly ignored. The little guy had apparently been on his own for years, though he sometimes still talked with Kristoff if they met on the fjord. Kristoff, she was glad to note, had survived the ruination of the castle. He was viewed now as a village elder, one of the few who made important decisions. He had helped the people of Arendelle survive the harsh climate, and arranged for many of those who were willing a safe passage to more hospitable lands.

As the sun rose high overhead, Idun noticed that they had climbed a significant portion of the mountain already. The village of Arendelle was no longer visible behind the low hills and trees. Ahead, she could see the radiance of the Ice Castle which was their destination. Idun was glad she was so close, though she knew even if she ran as fast as she could, she could no longer reach the shore in time. She was committed now to seeing Elsa home, only hoping that whomever the captain sent needed just as much time to get here as she had needed. One good thing she noted, was that there were no longer any trees at this high an altitude.

As sunset neared, Olaf guided her to a tall cliff. Idun looked up and was astonished at the height of it, at least a hundred foot above her. "Is it up there?" she asked.

"No, its around the ledge here. I can't go any further, or they'll attack me, again. I can survive being dropped off the side, but I'm afraid of them pulling me apart."

"It's ok, Olaf. I'll go talk to Elsa. She's gotta stop this winter."

"Don't go," Olaf whined, hugging Idun. "Anna said the same thing when we were here last. She froze after that. I don't want the only person I have left to talk with die."

"Olaf," Idun said, kneeling to look the scared and sad snowman in the eyes. "I'm already dead. It's how I can stand being here in these light clothes. There's nothing Elsa can do to me that will harm me. But I've got to go make her see reason. She has to end this."

"Promise?" Olaf asked, extending the small wooden branch he used for a hand.

Idun took the hand, shaking it, "I promise, Olaf."

Olaf smiled and wrapped his arms around her. "My warmest hug ever, so you'll come back to me."

"I'll come back, Olaf. I can't stay, but I'll come back."

After a moment, Olaf released Idun and she stood. Edging around the ledge, it soon widened out and she was staring into the Ice Castle itself. Idun had known Elsa had created the castle, but the sheer size of the structure was daunting to her. Every part of the castle glistened like diamonds in the setting sun. It was truly breathtaking. But Idun was here for a purpose, and that purpose was inside. With a resolute determination, Idun started forward. It was time to deal with her eldest daughter.

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Chapter 9 - Second Day Ashore (Part 2)**

* * *

Chapter 09 – Part 2

As Idun got closer to the icy bridge, she noticed the snow shimmer underneath her boots. Without warning, a snowball sized creature jumped up at her, causing Idun to fall over. She quickly palmed her Colt, aiming down at the Snowgie. With a gentle squeeze of the trigger, the Snowgie was reduced to snow flakes by the lead ball.

The resounding crack of the pistol might as well have been the ringing of the alarm bell, as hundreds of the little creatures popped out of the snow. Idun quickly switched the heavy pistol to her left hand, using her free right to draw her sword. They came at her in waves, each wave jumping to land against her and push her back. Though she was outnumbered, she did have one advantage over the hostile creatures, who kept trying to push her towards the edge with the cliff. They had no arms, which reduced them to jumping and pouncing, landing on her and pushing her back further and further.

Idun's sword slashed as fast as she could, doing her best footwork to keep from being knocked off balance. Every slice of her sword seemed to reduce more of the Snowgies to powder, but more kept coming. Each bark of her pistol destroyed several more, as the bullets ripped through them in a line to its final target in the snow. Soon, the numbers seemed to thin, and Idun was able to push towards the stairs one more time. She was almost at the foot when the double ice doors opened. Instead of Elsa being there, a large lumbering ice monster roared at her, the places where its eyes would be a shining blue light.

"You must be Marshmallow," Idun said, lowering her cutlass's tip to the ground. "I mean you no harm, but I have come to see my daughter Elsa."

"Go away," he roared, then he jumped.

Idun rolled fast to her right, losing her hat as she rolled up the snowy hill before the lumbering ice monster landed where she had been standing. The monster was fast, though, and with its long reach picked Idun up from where she had rolled. She leveled the pistol at the monster's head, thumbing the hammer back.

"Release me!" she commanded.

Marshmallow paid her no heed and turned towards the cliff. Knowing time was of the essence, Idun squeezed the trigger. The hammer came down and produced a loud click, but the gun failed to discharge. Knowing that was her last bullet, Idun dropped the gun and used both hands to jab her cutlass into the monster's wrist ice. Once the hand was free of the arm, it dropped and released her.

Marshmallow roared at her. It tried to knock her over the edge with its remaining hand, but Idun rolled over that hand as if it were merely a rail. Darting forward, she made a slice through its leg, severing the crucial limb. Knocked off balance by the loss of its limb, Marshmallow fell hard into the snow, and Idun refused to grant the giant any mercy short of the grave. Using her cutlass in both hands, she swung hard on the monsters neck, beheading it. Once the head started to fall clear away, the snow and ice that compromised the monster fell apart, leaving nothing but chunks of snow behind.

Free of anything else to stop her, Idun once again started for the stairs, picking up her discarded pistol and hat along the way. Without fresh shot and gunpowder, she couldn't reload her Colt until she got back to the Dutchman, but it was still useful as a hand club.

At the foot of the stairs, Idun slowly started up, taking each step cautiously in case Elsa sent something else after her. However, nothing else came through the open doors. She warily looked inside, seeing Elsa slowly came down the stairs.

At least she thought it was Elsa. During her last visit, Elsa had still been youthful and energetic. The woman slowly coming down the steps looked more like a grandmother, than the mid-thirty year old her daughter was supposed to be. The hair was the same chamomile, but the face was no longer full of life. The cheeks had sunken a little, and wrinkles lined her eyes. Her skin was loose, wrinkling some around the fingers that clutched both the rail, and the cane of ice in her left hand. But what struck Idun the most was how small Elsa was now.

Elsa always had a petite body, but now there was nothing left of her. There was no fullness in her bodice. No roundness showed through the green cloth she wore. Her exposed shoulders showed the bone and muscle underneath her skin as she moved.

"Has it finally come to this?" Elsa asked, her voice not as solid and authoritarian as it once was. In fact, Idun thought, it sounded more like someone on the verge of tears. "Have you finally come to kill the dreaded Ice Queen?"

"No," Idun said, sheathing her sword. "I came to talk."

Elsa continued forward, each footstep announced by the heels she wore, punctuated by the tapping of the cane as she leaned on it to hold her steady. "Talk about what, assassin?"

"Assassin?" Idun was shocked, then realized that in men's clothes, dressed so out of character to what was expected of her, she wasn't recognized. Removing her hat, she stared her daughter down. "To talk to my daughter about the pain she has inflicted on her people."

Elsa stopped at that as she looked her mother over. Idun knew she was a long way from the cultured finery she was used to wearing, but after fifteen years of service as a sailor, it was to be expected.

"Mother? Has it been ten years?" Elsa asked, a tear leaking down her cheek.

"Yes, it has. I'm sorry to hear about Anna. I can see you took her death rather hard."

Elsa started forward again, her cane tapping hard on the icy floor only once before Elsa dropped it. Idun held her arms out and embraced Elsa as she started crying. Idun let her cry, knowing that for years no one had been there to comfort her. Holding Elsa was like trying to hold ice in your bare hand. Even to Idun, it was difficult to keep her arms around her. Idun kept her arms around her though, knowing Elsa needed the release.

Finally after a long while, well past the setting of the sun, Elsa finally finished crying. "I was there when Anna died," she started. "Everything seemed to be going fine at first. Anna was happy. Then the midwife checked on the baby, and she told Anna not push. She sent for the physician, but the baby wouldn't wait. She started to bleed, and she screamed," Elsa began to cry again. "I tried to leave, I knew I was about to explode, but when her screamed ended, I looked at her. Her eyes...'

Idun knew. She'd seen the long stare of death before. It was the stare people gave while in the cargo hold of the Dutchman, as they waited to be delivered to the Pier. The long stare into eternity, where the eye sees forever.

"I couldn't stop it anymore. I screamed for everyone to get out, but I couldn't control it. I froze everyone in that room where they stood. Even Anna… So I tried to run, but it was cold. So cold I felt it. Then the stones cracked and the castle started to break apart. When I looked back, the castle was gone. So I left. I came back here. I tried several times to end the winter, but I can't. Not this time. Not without…"

Idun embraced Elsa again. Even after the first Great Freeze, Elsa had Anna. The two were inseparable before the accident. Now, without her, Elsa was here waiting to die. Unable to control her power, and unable to feel the love of a loved one. Was that why she was waiting here where she knew she could be found? Instead of running into the far north, to the Arctic Circle.

"Elsa, you can't stay hidden up here forever. I know you've been waiting to die but there's a fact to consider. How long has it been, eight years? Nine? Since Anna died? The people of Arendelle haven't sent anyone to kill you. You are still their queen. And though they may not like you for causing a never-ending winter, they still respect you as such."

Elsa only nodded, as her tiny, bony body was racked by sobs. Gently, Idun led Elsa back over to where her cane had fallen, then used the tip of her boot to kick it into her hand. Cane in hand, Idun led her daughter up the stairs to an anteroom of some sort, a large multifaceted formation of ice hung from the ceiling. Idun noticed it reflecting the dim light, somehow increasing what was available to provide a dim glow even in the dark of night.

Lost, Idun looked around. Surely there was a bed up here, Elsa indicated a far door, and after leading Elsa to it, found her daughters bed. It was small, reminescent of the one she had as a child, with the half canopy covering the top portion. Idun helped her daughter into bed, then tucked her in, sitting beside her as Elsa continued to sob. It pained Idun to see Elsa like this, but was glad she was finally letting go of her pain.

The whole thing reminded Idun of a night long ago just after the accident with Anna. Elsa had cried then too, that night. Idun had sung to her as Elsa sobbed herself to sleep. So, like that night so many years ago, Idun began to sing.

 _Who can sail without the wind?_

 _Who can row without oars?_

 _Who can be a parting friend,_

 _Without shedding tears._

 _I can sail without the wind,_

 _I can row without oars._

 _But I can't be a parting friend,_

 _Without shedding tears._

Elsa quieted down, her sobs subsiding as she drifted off to sleep. Idun continued to sing the short song, over and over, long after Elsa had become quiet. She missed her daughters. She truly did.

* * *

 **A/N**

The song is an actual Swedish folk song, translated into many different languages and does date back to the 17th century, I believe. It's rather hard to find information on it. For those Pirates of the Caribbean fans, you already know the tune. This is the song that the Dutchman's theme is based, that Davy Jones constantly plays on his organ. If you want to see it done, look this ditty up on YouTube. The name of it is the first line of the song, "Who Can Sail Without The Wind."

And a shout out to all six of my readers. You know who you are, and I hope you are enjoying this as much as I am.

As always, read and review please.

* * *

 **Chapter 12: Chapter 12**

* * *

William Turner landed back aboard the Dutchman at sunset. His crew was already appearing, some smelling better than others, and were gathering near the mast. As happened many times, they started to gather, talking about their day ashore. Saoirse was one of the last aboard, still dressed in her silk dress. She went over to some of Idun's friends, talking and carrying on about their day.

Idun. William looked around, but still hadn't seen the former monarch. He waited for several moments, while everyone talked. Even his father noticed him failing to rally the crew.

"What is it, son?"

"Idun. She's not here."

"Do you think she's been held up?"

"It has happened before. Sailor gets drunk and locked up for a few days. I still have to know, though," William said, turning back to his crew. "Rip, Saoirse! Come here."

The two crew members looked at each other, before quickly forming up in front of the captain.

"I need you two to figure out what happened to Idun. She hasn't returned."

"On land? We can return?" Saoirse said, confused.

"Aye, Saoirse. I'm the only one that truly can only step foot on dry land once every ten years. The crew doesn't have that restriction."

"Just figure out what happened? You don't want us to free her?" Rip asked, hand on his sword.

"No. Just find her, see if she's been locked up, or is refusing to return. If she's been locked up, find out why, if you can, and how long she's going be. If she's refusing to return, bring her back by force if you can. She's liable to be in the palace, so be careful."

"Aye sir." Rip said, as he and Saoirse readied to jump over the railing.

"Sir, if she be refusing to come back, what will happen to her," Saoirse asked.

"The same that happens to all who try to violate the rules, Ms. Ahern," William said, his voice neutral. "The Locker."

Saiorse nodded, then she and Rip jumped. William watched them as they disappeared below the water, taken by Calypso to Arendelle. He wished them the best, but he had a job to do. "Make sail! We have work to do."

-o-0-o-

Rip and Saoirse came out of the water on a beach near the village of Arendelle as a pale moon shone overhead. At least Rip thought it was a beach. It was covered in snow. He bent over, and picked up a handful. Years of being on the Dutchman had given him a sense of the supernatural, and this snow reaked of it.

"I thought Arendelle would be green," Saoirse said, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders in a mock attempt of keeping warm.

"It should be. This snow isn't normal. Someone, or something, made it."

The two continued on, quickly finding themselves in the thick of the houses. With no way to tell north due to the trackless gray skies. The locals seemed to give them a wide berth, muttering as they slipped back into houses or into snowy alleyways. If this was the home of Idun, she was either the best liar in the world, or something had gone terrible wrong since her last visit. And given her aptitude for Liar's Dice, and her talk of her daughter's ice powers, Rip thought, neither could be ruled out.

Soon though, they found a man walking toward them. He was tall, and seemed to be broad shouldered under his furs. He wore a gray knit cap that covered his well, with long blonde hair flowing from under it.

"Hello, strangers. Welcome to Arendelle," he said, through a thickly accented voice.

"Howya," Saoirse said. "We be looking for a friend of ours. About me height, long roan hair, carries herself like a lady and can probly fight the best of men."

The man became thoughtful for a moment, looking the two over. "You're looking for Queen Mother Idun?"

Rip looked over at Saoirse. She hadn't said her name, but if he recognized her by description and new her name and rank? "Do you know where she is. She hasn't come back to the ship."

"I knew the day was coming. I was hoping her return would end this," he said, waving an arm around at the village. "Ever since my wife died, the queen has cursed this land."

"Why would ye wife dying cause the queen to curse the land?" Saoirse asked.

"My wife was the sister of the queen," he explained. "I was there the night Idun returned. I guess it truly has been ten years now. I've been so busy trying to keep everyone going, keep everyone alive, that I haven't paid as much attention to time passing as I should. But, no, I haven't seen her. Not since the day she left for the Dutchman ten years ago."

"She came ashore yesterday, that we know. If you don't mind, we're going to look for her." Rip said, casting his eyes around, wondering where she would have gone if not here to the village.

"I don't mind really. But I will ask you to reconsider. At night, the storms get bad here. It can easily roll in a blizzard without warning and stay that way till long after the sun rises."

"A blizzard? What be that?" Saoirse asked, confusion showing on her face.

"A storm of snow, swab. Sometimes it can get so bad you can't see your hand in front of your face. It's real easy to get lost in, and if we weren't already past it, can freeze you stiff before you will see the sun again."

"That donnae sound very pleasant. Eire never had such weather."

"I thank you for your concern, but very little can stop us," Rip said to Kristoff.

"I wish you the best of luck. Your best place to look will be on North Mountain, where the queen lives, now. Maybe when we meet again, it will be under better weather."

Rip and Saoirse began walking towards the edge of town, while Saoirse eyed the imposing mountain. "Ye really thin' she be up there?"

"Aye, swab. Idun has cared nothing but for getting back to her daughter's since the moment she came aboard the Dutchman. It's going to be a long walk, though."

"At least the land be dry and sturdy," she added dryly.

-o-0-o-

Idun sat leaned up against the wall, when she heard a moan. She hadn't slept much, not having a proper bed to sleep on, but she was forced to by the lack of sleep. She managed to get to her feet just as Elsa swung her tiny body into a sitting position, and looked up at her mother.

"Mother, you came?"

"Where else would I be? I told you I'd be back to see my daughters in ten years."

"I'm glad to see you. It's been so long since I've seen anyone."

"When did Anna die?"

"Just before Christmas, the year after you returned to the Dutchman. She was so happy, mother," Elsa said, sniffling. "And then she was just gone."

Idun moved to sit by her. "Death is a part of living. We all will face it one day. Even you. Though I hope its a long time from now. But you do have a responsibility to your people, and that doesn't include hiding on top of a mountain waiting for an assassin that may never come."

"You're right. I've not been much of a queen lately."

"Let's go, I'll help you down the mountain."

Idun stood, then helped Elsa to her feet then caught her before she fell. Idun handed her the cane, which Elsa leaned heavily on. Idun raised an eyebrow at Elsa's weakened state. Elsa shook her head.

"Marshmallow hasn't been able to find much game for me to eat in years. I've often wondered if I'd die of starvation, even moving around the castle hasn't been easy for me."

"Another reason you shouldn't be alone here. Who, other than me, would mourn your passing? Who would see you given a proper burial?"

Elsa hung her head, "I really didn't think this through. I just didn't want to hurt people. When my power is unchecked, just moving my hand can kill someone. That's why I always wear a cape. If need be, I can always wrap my hands in it to hide my powers."

"As


	13. Star Trek Renegade 01

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, I'm only using the world and am adding my own characters and stories to it. I am not making money on this.

* * *

Prologue

Through the rainbow hued clouds of the Ordek Nebula, the Rusty Blade plowed on without hesitation. She was a small ship, old and derelict, and once was the pride of her captain. But he was old now, sitting in his quarters on his metal rack, glowering out the porthole as if the universe had conspired against him.

He hobbled to his feet, his left leg replaced with a metal stump long ago after a fight with pirates long since dead. He had his chance for an honorable death then, his chance to join Sto-vo-kor, but luck was with him. He won that fight, at the cost of his leg, though in the time since he had to wonder if he was truly lucky.

He had learned that the pirate who had attacked him was sent by his own son. He had tried to challenge him, but his missing leg caused him to stumble wrong in the fight and he also lost a liver that day, left to die as he howled for his son to finish him. He hadn't, and he always felt he had left his honor behind him. He had no way to perform the hegh'bat alone, the ritual suicide that would enable him to have an honorable death.

That was the last hope he had for an easy death. Now he ferried cargo in a derelict, hoping to run into pirates again. With them he knew he would die honorably, for he refused to surrender. He carried valuable cargo as often as possible, including a room full of Ferengi gold pressed latinum bricks, numbering in the thousands. Still no pirate attacked him, though he frequently travelled through pirate infested territory and didn't even try to hide his actions.

As he finished his last bottle of bloodwine, he pondered over his crew. He knew his first officer was a spinless Ferengi coward, his tactical officer was a nervous young Bolian who never seemed to aim straight. His helmsman was an older Rutian male, while his operations officer was a young Vulcan female, and likely one of the few who might assist him with the hegh'bat, the other being his human engineer who was always fussing over the dilapidated engines without ever repairing them.

He made up his mind that if he cleared the nebula, and finished the run to Grisell, he'd ask his operations officer to take part in the ritual to end his life honorably. He didn't care about the latinum, the ship, to him it was worthless.

His honor was all that mattered.

 **Captain's Log** : It has grown weary on me, this dishonor of dying of old age. I long for battle, of dying an honorable death, but I am far from any field of battle. I have taken many risky contracts, hauling near the Romulan Neutral zone, and though my current course takes me through the Ordek Nebula, we have seen no evidence of any craft. I hope soon to find a honorable death, or I'm going to need a bigger ship to haul this Ferengi money with.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

This is my first FanFic, a story I've been working since High School. It's set after Star Trek Nemesis, and I'm not going to consider the Star Trek Reboot films as canon here. Mostly this story will follow a small crew who transport cargo in the Alpha and Beta quadrants. I'm going to try to introduce each character slowly, you don't just throw a bunch of people together and say it sticks. They need chemistry, and a reason to not only blend, but stay blended.

Most of the characters involved will be my OC, though they will come from established races. I have right now, plans for only one Star Trek Character to make a full time run in this story, though you'll have to figure out who as the story progresses.

Reviews are always welcome. As are suggestions. And corrections. And Ideas. And...?

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Chapter 1 - The New Captain**

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, I'm only using the world and am adding my own characters and stories to it. I am not making money on this.

* * *

Chapter 1 – The New Captain

As T'lep sat in the operations station, staring at the sensor data she was uncovering, she caught the aroma of bloodwine. She glanced up long enough to hand the captain a datapad before going back to the sensor data. She was trying to figure out a strange signal in the background radiation, a signal she only uncovered while trying to filter the background radiation so the ship's sensors could get a better lock in the nebula.

She had almost decided it was just a natural phenomena when she detected a second, almost identical signal. She was parsing the signal's location when she heard the captain approach her station again, the smell of bloodwine assaulting her senses.

"I would ask a favor of you, T'lep," he grumbled, almost a whisper. "The doctors at Bolarus IX have found that I am succumbing to Nehret, old age. I wish to die an honorable death, and that has now come to me performing the hegh'bat, but I will need a second."

"You need someone to claim that you lead an honorable life, that your deeds were worthy of Kahless?" T'lep said, halting as the Captain nodded.

"Your part would be to hand me the mevak, so that I might plunge it into my heart. Then after my death, you would wipe my blood on your sleeve. After that, you may dispose of my body. It wouldn't matter how, it would be a lifeless husk."

"What of your ship? Do you have any family you wish me to contact?"

At that the captain shook his head saying, "No. I would not leave a debt to that targ of a son of mine. And all my family was lost in the war with the Dominion. The ship, and all in it, I would leave to you. There is a hatch in my cabin, it is locked by the ship's computer so that only the captain may enter. I will note in the ship's log that upon my death, you are to be the new captain, so that you may unlock it. It is a room, ten meters long, by five meters wide and is 3 meters tall. It is filled mostly with Ferengi latinum, some ten thousand bricks, along with other precious gems and valuable artifacts."

"I would be honored, captain. When would you like to perform the ritual."

"At the end of this run, so that it may never be said I never completed what I started."

"As you wish, Captain."

"You would give her a chance to acquire your latinum without discussing this with your first officer?"

"Silence, whelp!" the captain bellowed. "I would not buy your shame. You would only disgrace me in your hunt for latinum, and I have born enough disgrace from my son. So silence yourself worm!"

"As you wish, captain." he said, going back to an engineering station.

"Keep an eye on him, he is only interested in latinum, and might try to betray you," he said, as he turned to go to his chair.

" **Captain's log, supplemental**. I have decided to end my life soon. I am designating that T'lep is to have all my possessions once my life is ended."

T'lep turned back to her screen, and noticed the signals were further apart than before. She started to bring the sensors to bear on the unknown signal when it suddenly accelerated towards the Rusty Blade.

"Unknown signal coming in..." she began to say when the deck violently pitched and an ear splitting wrenching of metal filled the bridge. T'lep was thrown from her chair, landing near the doors to the turbolift, and the tactical officer was thrown into his console which erupted into a shower of sparks as a power surge caused it to explode. T'lep turned to face the captain, to find he was still in his chair, shouting orders to a dead tactical officer while the first officer clutched his lobes and shrieked about losing profits.

T'lep was almost to her feet when a second explosion rocked the small freighter, tearing away the bulkhead at the front of the bridge. The captain was the first to be sucked into space, along with the first officer. The helmsman was next, when his grip on the console he sat at failed. T'lep herself was sucked hard into the railing, breaking several ribs, but she was able to wrap herself around it until the air in the bridge was all sucked into space, allowing her to make it to the turbolift.

After the doors closed, T'lep was able to breathe again, although in great pain, and sent the car to deck four where the auxilliary control station was and collapsed against the far wall from oxygen deprivation. Several more explosions rocked the ship as she slowly descended, and when the doors opened, a howling wind had picked up in the corridor.

"Emergency. Emergency. Hull breaches detected on decks one through five. Unable to raise enviromental shields. Locking all air locks to prohibit toxic atmosphere from entering the ship," the computer intoned as T'lep exited the turbolift, the wind dying down as whatever hull breach was sealed, though she wondered how many crew were now doomed to die behind the sealed airtight doors.

She reached the auxilliary control without finding any other live crew members. She input her command codes, and actived the screens.

"Sensors have recorded the death of the current commander. Transferring command to T'lep, per captain's command."

T'lep surveyed the sensor data both external and internal. Though the external sensors contained very little usable data, the internal sensors worked perfectly, even if they caused concern. Very few life signs still showed on board. Of those, not one was in a sealed area, and that meant that soon, she'd be the last survivor.

"Warning. Warning. Primary power failure in one minute. Backup power damaged. Full power failure in three minutes."

Powering down the ship, she began to funnel most of the remaining energy, including disruptors, into maintaining the sensors. As the last survivor, if they boarded, she was certain that she would be taken captive. She vowed that wouldn't happen.

As she watched the screens, she noticed that the enemy ship was slowing, scanning her wounded prey no doubt, she thought. The ship came to a full stop about twenty thousand meters off the bow of the ship, in perfect firing solution for the torpedos.

She rerouted the phaser controls around the damaged areas, then fired at the ship's bridge. She quickly released a barage of torpedoes, manually firing them into the ships engine compartment. The result was clear, the ship blew into tiny dust. Relaxing, she scanned the ship through the internal sensors, looking for survivors.

There weren't any.

"Primary power failure. Secondary power systems damaged. Please don emergency life support suits for extra vehicular activity."

She pulled up the ship's cargo manifest, scrolling through the various shuttles. After verifying their location, she pulled up an internal view on the cargo bay. Not one of the shuttles was flyable.

She sat at the console's chair, rubbing her cracked ribs, pondering what she could do when she remembered seeing a runabout being lowered into the cargo hold under the secondary shuttle bay.

"Full power failure in one minute."

She pulled the cargo bay's screen onto her console. The runabout looked intact, and it was the last logical place to go. She called up the internal schematic, cross checking the locked bulkheads and came up with a route to the cargo bay. Leaving the auxialliary command room, she quickly headed to the cargo bay, fearing that she would arrive to the cargo bay too late. She broke into a run, as the power systems started to fade throughout the ship, then only the emergency lighting gave any illumination at all. A wind picked up, as the ship's internal atmosphere was sucked into the nebula. T'lep struggled to continue breathing through the pain in chest as the bay door came in sight, finally taking one last deep breath as the air faded into nothing.

Reaching the doors, she opened a panel below the control pad, and pulled out a suction pad and slapped it against the door, and forced it open. At the far end, sat the runabout, a small personal ship designed to be used by a small crew, or one person.

She was starting to struggle with her focus, the pain in her side was now a dull ache, as she reached the side of the runabout, then tapped the console to lower the ramp and open the door. As she entered the runabout, her vision was fading, and unable to focus any longer, blindly slapped the pad beside the door as she fell to the deck, numb through her body, and slipped into darkness.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Sorry this is taking so long to get started, but if you were starting with nothing it'd take you awhile to make something too. I have no clue when the updates will be, as I'm writing this either before or after I go to work.

Also, R & R.

Had some minor rewrites added, mostly just T'lep's personal feelings in the situation as this is seen mostly through her POV.

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Chapter 2 - Salvage**

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, I'm only using the world and am adding my own characters and stories to it. I am not making money on this.

* * *

Chapter 2 - Salvage

'It's cold,' she thought, then realized she was face first on the metal decking of the runabout. She struggled to raise herself to her feet, but was resigned to lean against the bulkhead as her muscles reoxygenated themselves.

Waiting against the bulkhead, she was grateful that she was still alive. She remembered another instance long ago where she had to run for her life. She had been six and had just witnessed a murder. The man had worn a brown hooded robe, but the face underneath was unmistakable.

Romulan.

She hated to remember that awful day, the day she became an orphan. She'd been terrified of being found by him so much that she had hidden in a cargo container being loaded on a ship and escaped to the stars.

Now, sitting against the bulkhead, panting for breath and nursing broken ribs, she wondered if she weren't better off if the Romulan had found her. She might have been traded back to her father for some kind of favor, as he seemed to be under the influence of blackmail by the killer. She might have even been killed.

Closing her eyes, she suppressed the rage she felt thinking of her life over the past eighteen years. Maybe death was easier, she felt, but as long as she was alive, she had a chance, a small hope that kept her going, that she could find that Romulan again and bring him to justice.

The man had disappeared, whatever mission he was on apparently unfulfilled, and her father was missing. She wiped the tear from her cheek as she kept the rage suppressed, trying to remember the lessons of her mother. 'Emotion left unchecked wreaks havoc on us all.'

After several minutes, she managed to stand, then went over to the ops station and sat in the chair. She brought the secondary power generation systems online, then activated the environmental controls, and set them to Federation standard. Running through damage control, she realized why the owner of the runabout was having the ship hauled. Many of the ship's functions were currently offline, including comms, tractor beams, shields, transporters, and primary sensors. In fact, the only things that seemed to work were the navigational dish, impulse and warp engines, and the phaser array.

'Great for battle, not so much for getting help.' She relaxed into the console's chair, thinking, then almost yelped at her broken ribs. Much of the ship's cargo was useless, consisting of people's personal effects, seeds, and terraforming equipment to be used on a nearby moon. That just left the latinum that the captain had mentioned.

Checking the ship's inventory, she found an EVA suit, so she could enter the ship again since all power had been exhausted. She also found a medical kit under the console, containing several pieces of medical equipment, including an osteo-regenerator. She placed the kit on the console, then removed the top of her gray jumpsuit. She picked up the regenerator, activated it, and began moving it across her broken ribs. When the device beeped, she placed the regenerator in the kit and placed it back under the console, then put her jumpsuit back on.

Moving aft, she found the EV suit in a locker next to the airlock, along with a spare. Donning the suit, she left the runabout with a repair kit and headed for the captain's cabin, which was on this deck above.

Walking down the corridor, past several bodies of dead crewmates, left T'lep a little on edge. She didn't stop to look at the corpses, knowing each one was dead by prolonged exposure to the vacuum of space, if they hadn't died of their injuries. It was unsettling though, and she began to move faster, soon finding the service ladder to the next deck up. Turning towards the bow of the starship, she walked to the door marked 'Captain's Cabin,' then placing her fingers between the door panels, forced it open.

Searching the cabin yielded the hatch, but without power she was unable to open it. Fortunately for her, the hatch wasn't very secure, and with a little laser work, managed to open the hatch and climb down the ladder. The room was filled with thousands of bricks, stacked on shelves along the wall. She walked the room, intrigued at the size of the stash and estimated how many bricks were in it, and found a surprise in the back corner of the room. A door, although it was welded shut.

Using her laser, she managed to cut the welds from the door. Returning the laser to her kit, she then forced the doors open to find the back of a panel. Searching the edges of the panel, she released it, and it fell forward, revealing she was in a hallway not far from the cargo bay.

It took several hours to move all the latinum to the runabout's cargo hold, but T'lep was finally able to store the EV suit back in its locker. She had been able to use an antigrav sled to move the bricks quickly, though now she found herself in a stained jumpsuit from a lack of climate control in the EV suit. Going into an undamaged suite in the runabout, the others not even fully furnished, and stripped off her clothes, depositing them into the marked slot for laundering.

Stepping in the sonic shower, she scrubbed her body clean. After the shower, she went to the replicator and ordered her clothes. She selected a pair of black slacks, a light blue top, a black bolero jacket and black ankle high boots with a side zipper. Dressed, she stepped in fron of a mirror to check her one point six meter frame and soft black hair, and decided to plait it.

Leaving her suite, she went up the stairs to the bridge, and sat in the science station. She scanned the outer wall, and going to the tactical console, set the warheads on the torpedos to half yield. She then activated the runabout's shields, and fired two torpedos into the bulkhead, which caused ripped the hull open enough to let the runabout out.

Finally she went to the helm, and went through the preflight checklist, and activated the antigrav units. Using the runabout's thrusters, she maneuvred the runabout free of the Rusty Blade, and breathed a sigh of relief that she wouldn't be trapped in the damaged ship.

Bringing the runabout around, she did a cursory examination of the Rusty Blade. It was easy to tell the damage along the engine compartment, as that was where most of the damage was concentrated, along with the damage to the bridge. Ahead of the ship's course was an asteroid field, and curious, she flew the runabout through it, noting several vessels of various origins.

Going to the replicator at the back of the bridge, she made a holoimager, and started to take pictures of the various vessels, cataloguing the various vessels for the authorities. Making several passes through the field, she found one vessel that sparked her interest. Positioning the runabout over the five hundred meter long vessel, T'Lep took several more photos, then checked her sensor readout as she visually checked the vessel.

She couldn't detect more than trace energy readings, mostly coming from the hastily constructed facility around it. She scanned as best as she could, but couldn't find any signs of life in the facility. Finally she found the source of the signal she noted earlier on the Rusty Blade.

"It's a homing signal for when they leave, so they can return,' T'lep pondered. Noting the signal in the ship's log, she brought the ship around on a course she hoped would take her quickly out of the nebula so she could find a way to a starbase, where she hoped she could repair the runabout and get an engineering crew together.

'That ship is definitely what I need,' she thought as she steeled herself for the long flight. 'Now I just need to make it fly again.'

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

Forgive me, I forgot I never described T'lep in any way. My bad.

Sorry that there's not much going on in this chapter, but I'm trying to lay the groundwork for the story. The next chapter will introduce a new character, and start moving the story forward. Promise!

As always, read and review. Suggestions and corrections are much appreciated!

Did some minor updates in this one as well, mostly minor changes to allow the reader to know what T'lep is thinking. One comment that was made is how can she shower in a ship with no power? So some rewriting to explain it better.

Now I wonder what ship she found?

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Chapter 3 – The Engineer**

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, I'm only using the world and am adding my own characters and stories to it. I am not making money on this.

* * *

 **Chapter 3 – The Engineer**

Unfortunately for T'lep, the runabout hadn't been able to clear warp two on the entire flight to Vanguard Base. It resulted in a weeklong trip that amounted to sitting at the controls of the runabout while reading several of the books the former captain had kept downloaded.

One of the books she found, was a guide to being a starship captain. It detailed some of the dangers a captain often faced, and not of the unknown alien kind.

"To be sure, one of my biggest concerns has always been the moral of my crew. I can run from and fight enemies, fool sensors, hide in nebulas and debris fields, but my crew is always with me. If they feel cheated, or fearful, they may turn on me, and unlike pirate raiders, I cannot flee from them. They surround me night and day."

T'lep herself had never given much consideration to that before. She knew logically that crew moral was a concern for captains, but had never thought of an actual mutiny. She thought about that while she flew.

At the end of the week though, she finally brought the ship out of warp near Vanguard Base. She had made a small hand held communicator in the replicator, which caused the one on the bridge to malfunction, and activated it.

"Vanguard Base, the is T'lep on approach in Runabout Drumgarde. Requesting permission to dock for repairs."

"Drumgarde, this is Vanguard Base. Please transmit your vessel's crew manifest and inventory."

"Vanguard Base, I am unable to comply with that request at this time. My communications array is currently offline, and needs to be repaired."

"Drumgarde, you are cleared to dock at Hatch Beta three-two. Set course zero-four-three mark one-two-six. Do not open the air lock to the station until an inspector is on site."

"Understood, Drumgarde out."

She closed the communicator, and piloted the shuttle on the heading provided, which led to the air lock. She downloaded the inventory report stored in the vessel, then updated it with items she had replicated in the week since she claimed salvage rights to the vessel, then headed aft. She stopped by the hold containing the latinum, and pulled a brick and placed it in a pouch on her belt. She then went to and opened the runabouts inner airlock, and waited for the inspector to arrive.

He arrived several minutes later, dressed in a red and green uniform, a handheld disruptor in a metal holster at his side. In his hand, he carried a medical tricorder. He opened the airlock, then immediately scanned T'lep.

"Something wrong?"

"Standard procedure on small craft," he said as he closed the medical tricorder and placed it on his belt. "Last year we kept getting refugees who were stealing runabouts and shuttlecraft who were trying to escape a plague on Minara IX. Unfortunately they were sufferers themselves, and we ended up with it here on the station. Suffice it to say, all small vessels who were not carrying a doctor are now required to have occupants be medically tested for any known diseases before they are allowed entry onto the station."

"That is logical, here is my crew manifest, and ship's inventory."

He took the the datapad, quickly skimming through the contents. Then handed placed it under his arm as he brought out his tricorder and began scanning.

"Nothing of importance on the manifest, but why are you carrying so much GPL?"

"It was left to me by the Captain K'tral of the house of Lorgh. He wanted my help to participate in the hegh'bat ceromony, and he was leaving me his possessions. That included his ship, but it was destroyed when were ambushed by pirate raiders in the Ordek Nebula. The latinum is all I took with me, besides this runabout."

"Pity. Klingons don't consider death by ambush to be honorable."

"I will still hold his death before Kahless as honorable. He died on his feet, ready to meet his foe in battle, and died in combat."

"I hope he finds his peace in Sto-vo-kor, but that's beside the point. I can find nothing wrong, so I'm clearing you and your ship. It's currently 0232 on board the station, so you'll have to wait several hours before many of the shops are open. Nev's bar is usually open all night, so if you wish to head there to wait, you may."

"Thank you, Inspector."

He folded the tricorder and placed it back on his belt, then took the datapad from under his arm and began typing into it.

"I'm uploading a copy of the general station layout available to all guests, and a list of shops and repair technicians so you may get your ship repaired. Contact our data center if you need to update your ship's computer files, be forewarned, Kylie is not at her best before her coffee in the morning. Otherwise, farewell captain, and welcome to Vanguard Station."

"Thank you, Inspector."

After the inspector had left, T'lep checked the datapad, and searched it for Nev's bar. It was easy to find, and soon she arrived at the bar and went inside. There were only two people in the bar, the bartender who was a Ferengi male, and a human in a soiled uniform, who was slumped over his drink as if he had passed out.

Stepping to the bar, she sat at a bar stool. "Mocha, extra sweet, please."

"Vulcan drink for a Vulcan lady," stated the bartender before turning away to make her coffee.

While waiting on the drink, T'lep began to list the different systems on the runabout needing repair when the smell of alcohol assaulted her.

"Wouldn't need...someting...something repaired would you, miss?" he asked, his speech slurred by too much drink.

T'lep looked up to see the human who had been slouched over his drink next to her. She regarded his question, "You are an engineer?"

"James... Compton. Darn good once, onc...before that idiot pilot got himself killed. This...His admiral father got me kicked out of Starfleet's R&D."

"I would have thought Starfleet would have given you a proper court martial?"

"Might of...have," he started, slumping over the bar, "but the admiral had it hid...hidden. Made it all...fall back on me. I swear I can fix any...any...,"

"He's out," the bartender said, putting her cup of mocha in front of her. "He's been drinking the local hooch strong for about three weeks now, ever since he got fired from his last post. Don't think I've seen him leave actually."

"Has he any money?"

"No, he fixes the bar for me to pay his tab. Pretty good at it too, but I've heard that he doesn't get along with others. That's why he got left here. He sabotaged the engines to make the chief engineer look bad."

"I see, how much is his tab?"

"Nine strips of latinum. What cheap hooch, best deal I ever made."

She reached into the pouch and produced the brick of latinum. "I do not have any strips, but I do have this brick."

The Ferengi nearly choked at seeing the brick. "Where did you get so much latinum."

"It was left to me by my predecessor on the Rusty Blade"

"Would you like a private suite to let him sleep it off?"

Drinking the last of her mocha, she slid off the stool. Turning Compton around, she lifted him in a fireman's carry. "Can you have my remaining latinum taken to my ship?"

"Sure thing, I'll need to get into my private vault, it'll take a while, security precautions. Where are you docked at?"

"Hatch Beta three-two."

"I'll deliver it by myself sometime around 1000."

Carrying her new crewmate, she left Nev's bar, and headed back to her runabout carrying the unconscious man. After checking the status of the other berthing compartment and found that the bed was missing. She carried him to the compartment she used and laid him out on the bed. She then sat on the ottoman, and settled herself to meditate. When he awoke in the morning, she would have him start repairs. She didn't know much about computer mechanics, usually resigning herself to operating equipment rather than fixing it. She needed an engineer, and now she had one, or rather, a Starfleet engineer who might be better suited to repair the vessel she had found in the nebula.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

While any battle is usually considered honorable to the Klingons, death by ambush is an unhonorable death, resulting in the dead being claimed by Grethor.

Pilot? Admiral father? Umm...?

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Chapter 4 - Out of the Bottle**

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, I'm only using the world and am adding my own characters and stories to it. I am not making money on this.

Chapter 4 – Out Of The Bottle

When T'lep ended her meditation, the bed was empty. Not made, but empty. Standing, she began to stretch her muscles, then went in to the head to shower and put on fresh clothes.

After leaving her quarters some twenty minutes later, she found Compton sitting in the engine compartment, a cup of coffee resting on the console while he read a datapad.

"Making a list of items to be repaired?"

"Actually, no, everything operational but the warp engines. I'm running a level one calibration and diagnostic at the moment. They were so badly out of sync I'm surprised they could maintain a warp field."

"That was fast."

"Most of your problems were due to a faulty EPS grid. Managed to replicate a replacement and get it installed before the headache settled in, then started repairing everything the computer listed in need of repair. I actually just finished that and was recalibrating the engines when you found me."

"You are most efficient."

"Thanks for the compliment. I also refurbished the captain's cabin, it's under the stairwell through the port hatch."

"Thank you, but this vessel isn't the only one I was interested in repairing."

"You have another ship? Did it break down and you have to come here to get help?"

"Actually, no. We will be salvaging it, and as of right now, I'm not sure what state it's in, only that another crew was working on it, and that they no longer have need of said ship."

"I'm guessing said crew was taken care of permanently?"

"Yes, I succeeded in not only repelling their attack, but destroying their ship while in the Ordek Nebula. Mine was also lost, facillating the use of this one, but I found the other ship before I left the system."

"You want to find this other ship, again? Our sensors will barely work in there."

"There is a homing beacon of a sort I can track back to the ship."

"Good thinking. So we find the ship, repair it, and then what? Are we going to crew it together? Or will we need a larger crew compliment."

"We will need a large crew, I believe a small team can repair it, and fly it out of the nebula, but it will need a crew of at least a hundred to be properly manned."

"Any data on it?"

"Yes," she said, leaning over, she accessed the sensor logs and displayed the ship to him.

"You're kidding? An Excelsior class? NCC-19803? That's the Libertine."

"Familiar with it?"

"A little, only because the captain was an engineer.. The Libertine was actually a testing platform for a new propulsion system. Outdated today, but it could propel the Libertine past warp nine and hold it."

"What happened to it?"

"On her second five year mission, she disappeared in the Beta quadrant. Speculation was that it was attacked by Romulans, but no proof was ever found. And you found it in the nebula?"

"Yes, and I intend to salvage it. I was speculating that you might understand it's systems better as a Starfleet engineer."

"Yes, and after the way I was drummed out, I can help you upgrade it."

"Upgrade?"

"I was primarily in weapons technology, but I got involved in a piece of technology that Voyager brought back from the Delta quadrant. In basic terms, it created a passage through quantum space. It's highly unstable, and if that idiot pilot had followed orders he'd have shut it down before it threw him out."

"So it was pilot error?"

"You have to understand, that's how unstable it is. You're constantly inputting corrections to maintain the tunnel, but one mistake causes it to collapse. We just had this idea to use a soliton pulse to stabilize it as it's built, but then I lost my access. The last word I had, it was a marked improvement, so much so, that it might even be viable for testing."

"How fast would it travel?"

"You could make the trip from Earth to Vulcan in seconds, travel the entire breadth of Federation Space in a few minutes, and be completely undetectable while doing it."

"Could you rebuild it?"

"Possibly, but what use would it be to a cargo ferrier?"

"I'll be honest, moving cargo is not my overall goal. There is someone I intend to find, and the best place to find him, he is in Romulan space."

"Romulan? What did he do?"

"He's a murderer."

"I once heard a Vulcan say that revenge isn't logical."

"Mr. Compton, despite what you have heard about my race, we do feel emotion. We usually set it aside to follow the path of logic, but we still feel. I don't intend to kill him, only capture him and return him to Vulcan to stand trial for his crimes."

"Alright, a bounty hunting Vulcan. Now I've heard everything. I presume you intend to pass yourself off as a cargo captain with a fancy salvaged ship?

"Presumably, under Maritime Law, I am required to contact the Federation and make them aware I have the Libertine. As it's an old ship, I doubt that they will still want it, which makes it salvageable under the law. If they do want it, they are required to make reperations for their vessel. Which would mean we would get a different, though arguably, still useful vessel."

"And you're going to need a chief engineer on this wild ride, one who understands the concept of weapons systems, and can offer you some of Starfleets best concepts."

"Are you interested?"

"Like I've got anything else to do," he grumbled, sipping his coffee. "But an Excelsior class starship is going to need almost two hundred in crew for standard op, possibly one hundred for basic operation and maintenance. I hate to say it, but you almost need a smaller ship."

"Like a scout class vessel?"

"Fast and hard does have advantages, and also before you head off into the nebula, we are going to need a proper pilot. Runabouts and shuttles are simple to fly, but flying a starship takes skill. We can't rely on the computer to do everything."

"Then Chief, we need to find a pilot. Welcome aboard," she said, and turned around and headed for the airlock.

Author's Notes:

I decided to research the Maritime Law and that part T'lep mentions about getting reperations for salvage is true, though you'd only get the ship if you chose to give it to the salvagers. So Starfleet can still claim the Libertine, but they'd have to compensate T'lep for her efforts. Thinking of the size of an Excelsior class ship, I'm probably going to make a smaller ship, one of my own design

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Chapter 5 - Every Second A Memory**

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, I'm only using the world and am adding my own characters and stories to it. I am not making money on this.

* * *

Chapter 5 – Every second a memory

It had been two days, since T'lep had posted an advertisement for a pilot. She was passing the time reading, her current book was by Admiral Gaines. He was outlining the basics of three dimensional battles when the computer chimed. Checking a nearby console, she saw that there was a young human female waiting at the airlock entrance.

'Seems I have a prospective crewmember,' she thought, a smile twitching her lips. Going aft, she opened the airlock to find a high spirited young lady fidgeting as she waited.

"Hi, you're the captain looking for a qualified starship pilot, right?" she said, obviously high spirited and a little nervous as she fiddled with her shoulder length blond hair.

"Yes, I am. It's an Excelsior class starship that I'm going to be salvaging, and I need someone capable to pilot it for me."

"Oh, I'm so rated for the Excelsior class, I actually got to fly one on the holodeck to take my test. They aren't the most nimble, but you could do worse. You should try some of those old freighters. Flying bricks, the lot of them," she babbled on.

"Excellent, you have no..." she started to say when an older man in his fifties slid to a stop outside the airlock.

"Kiel, there you are! I told you, we're headed to your aunt's place, you'll get a piloting job there," he said angrily, as he walked up to the young woman.

"Dad, flying old scows is no fun. Besides, I'm nineteen. I can make decisions for myself."

"You might have the body of a nineteen year old woman, but you have the mind of an eleven year old still. You need to learn to take responsibility!"

"She does have a point. If she is nineteen years old, she does have the choice to make her own decisions," T'lep interjected.

"By point of law, maybe. Listen, miss..." the elder man started.

"Captain, actually. Captain T'lep currently of the runabout Drumgarde."

"Captain, Kiel was injured in an plasma conduit explosion when she was eleven. Due to the stasis field required to do the repairwork needed, she aged while she was in a medically induced coma."

"Yea, dad, but I'm better now."

"Listen, mister..."

"Doctor, Doctor Era Inyo. This is my daughter Kiel Inyo."

"Doctor, I'm sure even though she is not mentally devoloped, she is allowed to choose her own path in life. If she chooses not to share it with you, shouldn't it be her choice?"

"It should, but she's all I have left. If you won't listen to reason with me young lady, then I'm forced into other options."

"Daddy, you don't have to have a total tiff over it," the blonde whined.

"No, if you're insistent on traipsing off to explore the galaxy behind the helm of a starship, I'll be not far behind." he said, shaking his head as he leaned against the airlock hatch. "I assume you might also be needing a qualified physician?"

"We could use a doctor, yes," T'lep stated, glad that she might start filling out her crew roster earlier than expected. "Though we are short of berthing compartments right now. You'd have to share quarters with your daughter."

"Dad, please?! You know I've wanted to pilot starships since I was six and we were on the Excalibur."

"I know, that's why I said, I'm going. Someone has to keep an eye on you, young lady."

The young blonde lady squealed and hugged her father, then turned back to the captain, "So captain, can we come?"

"Of course, welcome aboard. We'll be leaving the station at 0900 tomorrow."

"Thank you, captain," Era said, looking rather relieved. "Come along, Kiel. Let's go get our belongings and get settled in to our new quarters. You can look at the controls later."

"Be right back captain!" Kiel said, as she followed her father down the corridor.

T'lep closed the airlock door, and then allowed herself one brief moment of joy.

'Things are improving,' she thought as she went back to her cabin, 'Improving indeed.'

* * *

 **Captain's Log, Stardate 56849.55**. The Drumgarde is currently at full operational status, and we are about to cast off from Vanguard base and head for the Ordek nebula. I am, apprehensive about reentering the nebula after being attacked in it several days ago. I know logically that the likelihood of further pirate attacks in the nebula are slim, but that doesn't bring me peace.

My current crew is, energetic to say the least. Chief Compton hasn't had any alcohol to drink since I recruited him in Nev's Bar. My helm officer Kiel Inyo is nothing but energy while her father seems to be content in the fact that she's happy.

I am confident in our effort to salvage the Libertine will succeed as my chief engineer has stated to me that the impulse engines look undamaged, and likely only need to be restarted. Once that is accomplished, we can fly the ship clear of the nebula and contact help if the warp enines are more severely damaged.

I remain, optimistic, that the next few days will be rather rewarding.

* * *

As T'lep entered the bridge, she found Doctor Inyo sitting in the science station, as he studied their projected path back to the nebula.

"Anything to report?" she asked, as she sat across from him in the ops station. She sadly reflected that there wasn't an official captain's chair to sit in, and resigned herself to going over the ship's status.

"Just dust particles and one type 2 asteroid, nothing in our projected path, though. Just wanted to be sure there was nothing we could be splattered against."

"You seem to have a rather low opinion of your daughter's capabilities," she said, then noticed that the SIF and inertial dampeners were set to their maximum setting.

The doctor looked over, "Have you given anything thought at all to what you did?" T'lep looked back at him, thoughtful, as he continued. "You have given flight of a runabout, and eventually a starship, to an eleven year old girl. Nevermind the fact she looks nineteen. She is still, as far as mentalility goes, eleven years old. She is impetous, headstrong, egotistical and very prone to flights of fancy. She's never actually flown anything outside of a holodeck. You have a lot of faith in her for never having actually known much about her."

"Yes, but where else am I going to find a certified pilot this deep outside Federation space? It's not so much faith, doctor, as a lack of choices."

"At least you seem to understand. Going to leave those settings at maximum?"

"At least until I see how well she handles the controls. I don't want this craft damaged," she said, slightly nervous as the cronometer finally read 0900."

"All right everyone, are we ready to debark?" Kiel called happily from the helm.

"As we'll ever be," her father grumbled, as he buckled the safety webbing over his shoulders and waist, earning a raised eyebrow from T'lep. "I had James install this for me last night," he remarked, noticing T'lep eyeing him.

T'lep smiled back at the overly cautious doctor, then opened a frequency to the base's traffic control. "This is runabout Drumgarde, requesting permission to leave dock."

After several moments, there was a slight thump, followed by an incoming transmission. "Drumgarde, you are now released from base docking, have a pleasant trip."

"Thank you, Vanguard Base. Drumgarde out," she said, the closed the channel. "Helm, set course for the Ordek Nebula, full impulse."

"Aye, captain," Kiel said cheerily, and then putting her hands on the consoles, brought the small craft about.

"Once we clear the gravitational field, bring us to warp four."

Kiel glanced at her helm control, then announced "Making warp jump in eight seconds."

"Heaven help us all," the doctor mumbled, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the console too hard.

With a surge of speed, the Drumgarde jumped to warp. Aboard ship, T'lep watched in satisfaction at the instrument readings.

One day.

She'd be back to the Libertine in one day.

'Check,' she mentally thought. One step closer to her goal.

* * *

 **Author's Notes** :

I'm using a Stardate calculator found on TrekGuide to compute the Stardates.

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Chapter 6 - Overcoming Obstacles**

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, I'm only using the world and am adding my own characters and stories to it. I am not making money on this.

* * *

Chapter 6 – Overcoming Obstacles

"Alright, people," Kiel said cheerily, "We're here."

T'lep now sat in the science station, sensors already calibrated to detect the homing beacon. Once the runabout dropped out of warp, the console under her fingers chimed, and the sensors displayed the beacon's signal.

"Helm, set course zero-three-four-mark-one-nine-seven. Half impulse."

"Aye, captain."

T'lep still felt a sense of fear at being called captain. She knew that she was supposed to lead her crew, but she felt unprepared for the task. She also knew, that being a captain was just a matter of making choices, but still, those choices often ended up with people dead.

Looking at her hands, she wondered how many people were aboard that ship she destroyed. She felt guilt at their death, but logically knew that their death wasn't the result of her own actions, but theirs. They were the one's who opened fire on her, but she still felt the guilt.

'No wonder all Federation starships carry a full staff of psychologists. The crew would go insane in the first year without them.'

"Captain, I'm seeing something up ahead," Kiel called out.

"Slow to one-fourth impulse, bring us in geostationary orbit above the Libertine, and keep us about five hundred meters away."

"Aye, captain."

"Chief Compton, to the bridge, please. We've arrived at our destination."

"On my way, captain."

T'lep continued to monitor the nearly nonfunctioning sensors as she waited. When Chief Compton arrived on the bridge, she showed him the data.

"When I left, that facility was fully powered. Now, I'm not picking up any power readings anywhere in it."

Compton continued to study, then shook his head. "What you're seeing is probably nothing more than a lack of maintenance. Even if they were using a low maintenance power source, it's still been almost two weeks without even a calibration. It could have just shut down as a safety precaution.

"Still, the facility isn't what we're here to salvage. These readings on the hull seem to indicate that they were just about to have it fully repaired. Just minor hull damage from colliding with something, asteroid probably. Which leads to my next question. What happened to the crew?"

"It's impossible to say. I was hoping that there might be some log entries that would indicate their fate. We won't know until we board and sift through the informtion."

"There should be a docking hatch on the port side of the engineering section. It was standard on most vessels back ninety years ago."

"Proceed with docking, helm. Then we'll board and see about getting it ready to fly.

"I got it," Kiel said cheerily, then the view of the ship changed as she brought it around, flying towards the aft side. She brought it in swiftly, giving T'lep a moment of panic that the woman was going to crash as she suddenly veered into towards the Libertine, but soon she had the runabout aligned to the docking port and with a thump, locked in place.

"All secured, we are hard docked," Kiel called out merrily, like a kid who was able to show off a new toy.

"Thank you, Kiel," T'lep said, then activated a comm as she stood up. "All hands, to starboard airlock."

"Including me?"

"Yes, Kiel. We don't have that many people so we'll have to work harder to salvage this ship."

"I just thought since I was so young that you'd make me stay behind and watch the ship or something."

"I was a young girl when I first went into space, and not even at the age you had your incident when I was doing 'adult' things. So I will be the last person who will ever judge you to be too young, what you are now is eager and able, and I need you to function as the adult you now are." T'lep cocked her head to the side, studying the glee that appeared on the young blond's face. "Agreed?"

Kiel's response was to rush forward and hug the captain, much like a little girl would do in being told she was old enough to be on her own for the first time. T'lep for her own part felt awkard at being embraced, though she was thankful that the younger woman never touched her skin, but she was still able to shield herself mentally in case she did, not wanting to hurt the over-eager youth.

After the embrace, Kiel rushed to the airlock, presumably to don her EV suit, leaving a stunned T'lep behind. At the bottom of the ramp, Doctor Inyo leaned against his open quarters door, shaking his head.

"My apologies captain. I'll have a talk with her later about not touching Vulcans without permission. I know there's a telepathic ability you have to brace yourself against when you touch someone."

"Thank you, doctor, that is most appreciated. I was able to shield myself, thereby sparing her any ill effects," she stated, walking down the ramp to head to the airlock. In truth, she hated being touched, but it had little to do with her telepathic abilities. She was just uncomfortable in personal situations.

At the airlock, Chief Compton was already in his suit, helping Kiel understand how to operate hers. T'lep and Doctor Inyo both donned theirs without problem, and the four walked into the airlock's small compartment. The chief activated the airlock's decompression cycle, then picked up a carry case and slung the strap over his helmet, and all four activated their magnetic boots as the outer door opened. The chief then pulled a tool from the side compartment of the airlock, placed it in the small crack created by the double doors of the Libertine's airlock, and waited while it pushed the doors open.

"Chief Compton, take Doctor Inyo and see about activating the ship's engines. Kiel, you're with me. We're going to the bridge so when the chief activates the engines, you can take control of the flight controls in case anything happens."

Everyone said a curt, 'Yes, Captain,' and stepped through the hatch into the ship. They stayed in a group until they hit a T-junction, then following their tricorders, started off in different directions. T'lep continued to scan the the corridor, stopping at a set of double doors. Using her strength, she forced the doors open to reveal a turbolift. The two women then began to climb the vertical shaft, stopping at Deck Four, which was the last deck the shaft went to.

"At least we get a rest before we have to climb again," Kiel grumbled, rubbing her hands.

T'lep remained silent, and proceeded down the corridor as she continued to scan. After a few minutes walk, she paused at another set of double doors, which she opened to reveal another turboshaft. They again climbed to the top, however when T'lep forced these doors open, they found themselves on the ship's Bridge.

"Just like the holosimulation I was on," Kiel commented, making her way to the helm. T'lep paused herself, her eyes on the ship's central chair.

"Captain, are you in place? We're ready to start the impulse engines."

"Go ahead, chief. Kiel is in place at the helm."

"Roger, starting the activation sequence now."

She waited patiently by the entrance to a room marked senior briefing lounge, and then it happened. With a flicker of light and the deep thrum of the engines she could feel through the deck plates, the ship began to power up. She smiled, as she watched the computer screens started to display their information, and then the viewscreen activated.

"Helm's on standby, captain. Not showing any moorings, or other support structures locked on, so we're probably just resting on some skids," Kiel stated, then removed her helmet and gloves.

T'lep removed her helmet, setting in on the rear bridge station. "Noted," she said, as she undid the fasteners of her EV suit, then stepped out and laid it over the nearby chair.

She reverently stepped to the captain's chair, and ran a hand over the leather material of the arm rest. Stepping in front of the chair, she carefully sat, feeling for the first time that she was in control of her life. She was sitting in the captain's chair of an operational Federation starship, one she was about to try to bargain to keep. She was finally leaving the terror and humiliation of her childhood behind, and stepping into the role of an adult, ready to contribute to the galaxy.

So why was she suddenly overcome with a sense of dread?

She reflected on her feelings, trying to pinpoint the dread she was feeling. She finally pinpointed where her concern was coming from. She knew next to nothing about the Romulan she would be pursuing, and while she was in a Federation starship, it was still outdated by about ninety years.

Studying the armrest, she found the intercom buttons, and activated the one for engineering. "Bridge to Engineering. Chief, are we ready to attempt to move the Libertine?"

"Should be. I would advise thrusters only, at least until we're clear of the facility."

"Understood, bridge out," T'lep said, then turned to Kiel who had just finished shedding her EV suit. "Thrusters only, Helm."

Nodding to the captain, Kiel turned solemnly to the helm, then sat back in the chair. She activated the thrusters, then lifted the Libertine back into flight.

T'lep watched the viewscreen, and it's occasional flicker as they lifted off the asteroid. She felt elated. 'It's still space worthy,' she thought, then she addressed Kiel. "Set course for the Federation, half impulse until we clear the nebula.

"Anywhere specific you want me to head?"

T'lep paused at the question, "Earth. Set course for Earth."

Kiel frowned, then turned back to the helm, "Alright then."

T'lep noticed the frown, and the slump of the young girl's shoulders as she piloted the ship through the nebula. "Is there a problem?"

"I was hoping we'd get to keep it," the girl stated, sounding sad. "This is the first time since I woke up from the nightmare I'd been in, while dad was trying to fix me, that I'd been treated like an adult."

"It isn't over yet, but this ship does properly belong to the Federation. If they don't want it, then we'll keep it. But I did lose a ship out here, and under Federation Maritime Law, I am entitled to some compsentation for salvaging this one."

"Compensation? Like another ship?"

"Yes. Probably smaller, one that was confiscated, or the owner didn't survive the catastrophe visited on him."

"So your not just giving up?"

"I learned long ago, when I was younger than you before you had your accident, that you can't give up. I've survived things," T'lep paused, trying not to remember some of the horrible things she'd been through, then noticed Kiel had turned her chair to face her, "horrible things that I would rather you never have to live through. But our past is only what teaches us. Our future is our own to chart. In a nutshell Kiel, I survived Del Roga Station, and now I'm sitting in the captain's chair of an Excelsior Class starship. I will continue to chart my future, and not let my past stop me from accomplishing the tasks I set out to do.

"You shouldn't either. I took your father on because I needed the extra hands to salvage this ship, not because I thought you needed looking after. You are an adult now. You must decide for yourself what is best for you, and not let the fact that you slept through eight years of your life stop you from your dream. Here you are, at the helm of a starship. Is that not where you wanted to be?"

Kiel, hung her head, almost crying. "Yes, ever since I was saw my first starship fly out of dock, I knew I wanted to do this. And thank you captain, for treating me like an adult, and not like I'm emotionally handicapped, like my father does."

"You're welcome," T'lep stated. "Now, I'm going to go into the captain's lounge and check the logs, and see if I can figure out what happened to the crew. I've seen no phaser burns on the wall, no signs of a fight, no struggle, and no remains. This ship is a mystery. You have the conn, Kiel. Let me know if anything comes up, and take us to full impulse when we clear the nebula."

"Aye aye, captain," Kiel called happily, her cheery demeanor returning.

As T'lep approached the doors in the portside aft of the bridge, she thought, 'I guess I am the counselor of this ship. Now, who will counsel me?'

* * *

Author's Notes:

My first follower! So proud!

Sorry it took so long on updating, had a family emergency that kept taking me out of town.

As always, read and review please, and I'll be glad to answer any questions you may have.

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Chapter 7 - Salvaging the Libertine**

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, I'm only using the world and am adding my own characters and stories to it. I am not making money on this.

* * *

A/N – Sorry about the long delay in this update. I was looking through my outline, and well, I needed a major rewrite. First of all, I'm not rewriting what was already written, that hasn't, nor will ever, change. I'm changing what is to come. See, what I took out was about 5 years of buildup, of character devolopment, love triangles, a trip to the distant past, a meddlesome Q, and a few ship rebuilds and a replacement.

5 years, about 600 chapters to do it justice, to be condensed down to a shorter version. I'm still trying to make it realistic, to make it believable, but I'm cutting out a lot to shorten it to a about a year.

Also, now that we have a start to our functioning crew, I'm going to start bouncing the perspective around a little, show the story from differing view points.

Hopefully now we can move forward with our story.

* * *

Chapter 7 – Captain T'lep – Captain's Ready Room

T'lep had placed the hail to Starfleet earlier that morning, and had spent the intervening hours studying the available logs from the ship's crew. Most of what she had found was related to crew functions, except for a barely registering subspace anomoly. She was about to pull more on the anomoly when she heard her terminal beep. Seein that she had a response to her hail, she opened it.

"Greetings, Admiral Nechayev," T'lep stated once the admiral was clearly visible.

"Hello, captain. My aide tells me that you have salvaged the Libertine?"

"Yes, I found it in the Ordek Nebula."

"I'll assume then you wish to keep it."

"The thought had crossed my mind. However under Federation Maritime Law, I am required to seek such permission from its former owner, or compensation."

The admiral shook her head, "That ship still has classified Starfleet technology, I can't allow you to keep it under present conditions. However, we are assessing allowing qualified individuals the chance to join a new division of Starfleet."

"Maybe at a future date admiral. I am, though, in need of a ship. Legally, I am not able to fight you on this," T'lep stated, but another thought crossed her mind, "but do you have another ship that Starfleet can part with?"

"Yes, we have several that we have confiscated from smugglers and pirates over the years. It'd be nice to see one commanded by a good captain," the admiral stated, obviously relieved that she wouldn't have to worry about the Libertine falling into the wrong hands.

"Tell me more about these ships," T'lep stated, leaning back in her chair, feeling as if she had just won a hard pressed fight.

-o-0-o-

Chief Compton - Engineering

He was tired, having been up all night realligning the warp core, while the rest of the crew slept comfortably in their borrowed beds. He rubbed his temples, trying to force some focus into his eyes when he caught the smell of coffee.

"Rough night?"

He lifted his head from underneath the console, to find the captain with a tray holding two cups of coffee. She was setting the tray down on the console, so he lifted himself to lean against it.

"How do you like your coffee?"

"Sugar, please," he said, while T'lep fixed his coffee. Once she had it ready, she handed it down to him, which he readily took a sip with pleasure.

"Thanks, but what brings the captain down to Engineering?"

"As we only have a single engineering officer, it is only logical to make sure he is operating at his best."

"Fair enough, almost ready to initialize the engines. Another hour or so, hopefully."

T'lep raised an eyebrow at him, "Hopefully?"

"The ship has been irradiated with a form of hyperphasic radiation. That's what happened to the crew, they were killed when the ship was hit with the radiation."

"Where would a ship encounter such radiation?"

"Dark energy would cause it, but I have no idea where you would encounter such a source. It's not easily made, theoretically, it is high energy, higher energy than hundreds starships can ever create. The only way it can be made, that I ever heard, was classified at Starfleet. It's a thing called an Omega molecule."

"I've never heard of it."

"Few have. Any Federation ship, since it's discovery, is designed to lock down and alert the captain if it's presence is discovered. In simplest terms, if a single particle explodes, like antimatter is capable of, it will destroy subspace for lightyears. It is the most classified piece of information I can ever divulge, and I do so only because this ship has come into contact with a civilization capable of using it."

"According to the last log entry, the ship was investigating a subspace anomaly. That was the last mention of anything odd, and that was the end of crew activity."

"Another thing I have noticed, the ship's metallurgical analysis dates the ship at about fifteen years old, though it should be over a hundred."

"Any chroniton readings?"

"None."

"Then it is a mystery we will leave to the Federation."

"Thanks for the coffee," he said, finishing the cup. "Just a few more items on the checklist, and I'll have the warp engines back online."

"Good, keep at it chief," she said, then turned and walked away.

Compton leaned back under the console, and within moments had the injectors primed. Now all he had to do was a quick reroute in the jeffries tube, then the warp engines would be online.

Then he could sleep.

Sliding out from under the console, he got up and opened the hatch to the jeffries tube. On hands and knees he crawled several meters into the tube to a control module. He hated not having proper access to the ship's computer, which prompted him to have to use the backdoor commands and manually inputting controls to make the engines work, but without Starfleet's assistance, this was the best he could do. He opened the control module, and quickly rerouted warp controls to unsecured backup command interfaces, then closed the module. Tapping his communicator, he opened the intercom to the bridge.

"Engineering to Bridge, warp engines should be online."

With a hum, he could literally feel the engines start to function, and he briefly wondered why modern engineers had reworked the inertial inhibitors to cancel out the feeling of the warp engines. It was exhilarating to feel the engines come to life like this.

Lack of sleep, though, was winning the war. Rolling over on his side, and using an arm for a pillow, he went to sleep in the jeffries tube.

-o-0-o-

Kiel Enyo – Bridge

Kiel could barely contain her excitement as she brought the warp engines online. She'd been in command for over seven hours, and no one had even bothered to check on her. It made her feel so grown up.

She had already plotted the course for Earth, per the captain's command, and now that she had the power output for the engines, she calculated that it would take several days to reach their destination.

With a hiss, the turbolift doors opened and the captain stepped out. Kiel felt a moment of sadness at losing command, but quickly regained her composure at the thought that she might again be put in command. She had been awake and on duty for like twelve hours now.

"Anything to report?" the captain asked as she took the center chair.

"The chief just brought the warp engines online, and was about to make the jump to warp."

"Very well, helm. Warp four."

"Aye captain, warp four, still on course for Earth."

As she slid the ancient throttle controls forward, she watched as the stars turned into white streaks around them. She watched the helm controls for a moment, but sensors didn't pick up anything wrong. The ship was stable, and they accelerated quickly to warp four.

"Warp four achieved, captain," Kiel said happily, pleased that T'lep entrusted her to do her job without second guessing her.

"Thank you helm. It's been a long shift, why don't you get some rest, then you can return to your post."

Again, Kiel was momentarily saddened at the thought of being asked to leave, but as she gave a moment to what the captain had said, realized she was right. She was tired. So she set the autopilot to hold heading and speed, then turned to face the captain.

"Which quarters are we using?"

"For now, we will continue to use the runabout for our quarters."

"Alright," she said, then headed back to the turbolift. 'Just watch how little sleep I get before I come back to sit at the controls again,' she thought as she stepped past the turbolift doors. 'I'm not going to let this opportunity pass me by.'

* * *

 **Chapter 9: Chapter 8 - Distress Call**

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, I'm only using the world and am adding my own characters and stories to it. I am not making money on this.

* * *

Chapter 8 – Distress Call

T'lep sat in the center chair, her eyes on the datapad in her hands when she heard a console behind her start beeping. She turned to face the sound, and saw it was coming from the comm station. She rose from the center chair, and headed to the station, and accessed the comm board. It took her several moments to parse the weak signal, finding out when she had a firm lock on its frequency, that it was an emergency hail.

Tapping some controls, she put the earpiece in her ear and opened the channel. "This is Captain T'lep of the USS Libertine. Do you need assistance?"

"...ay a…, this is… os..."

T'lep raised the gain on the signal, while adjusting the power output for the transmitter, then tried the hail again.

"Libertine, say again. I've suffered a power failure in the main EPS grid. Require immediate assistance."

"This is Captain T'lep of the USS Libertine, what are your coordinates?"

"USS Libertine? No, do not divert. I will not accept assistance from the Federation."

"We are not affiliated with Starfleet. We are a salvage crew returning a ship to Earth."

"Forget it, Libertine. I won't fall for a lie like that. I refuse to be indebted to such a filthy organization. Bedro Gos out."

T'lep had to pause at that. What could the Federation have done to leave anyone with such hatred?

Still, she had to try and rescue him. Not only was it expected of all ship captains to render aid as needed, but a good chance to meld the crew together before they started on their own. She tapped the yellow alert button, and a klaxon began to blare. She began working on triangulating the signal when Chief Compton arrived on bridge, rubbing a sore spot on his forehead.

"What's up?" he said, obviously just rising from sleep.

"We received a distress call. They reported their EPS grid failed, and are in need of assistance. However, when he learned we are on a Federation starship, he refused said assistance."

Compton frowned at that, studying a display containing engineering information. "He's going to want it anyway. He's on reserve power, and according to these readings, he has a substandard alloy comprising his ship's hull."

The doors to the turbolift had hissed open again, and Kiel was leaned against the inside wall, pulling up her boot. She too had the bedraggled look of someone who had just gotten out of bed, although her long hair was more rumpled than Compton's. When she finally got the boot on, she stepped out and stretched.

"Substandard, how?"

"It's too porous. While the ship might be sealed airtight, air can actually be sucked through the metal plating. They probably use the structural integrity field to maintain a proper atmosphere. Figure with a ship that size, he's got maybe twenty minutes before he loses atmosphere completely."

"Set an intercept course, Kiel."

"Aye, Captain." Kiel said, going to the helm. She slowed the ship, brought it about and pushed it back into warp again, then after checking the readings, turned to face the captain. "Due to intercept in about thirty minutes. Currently holding at warp five."

T'lep sat back in the captain's chair while Compton leaned on the railing behind her. "Accelerate to maximum warp, helm. This is an emergency situation, and as such we are allowed to go faster."

"Pushing to warp eight."

"Let me get down to engineering, I think we might be able to push it to warp eight-five."

"Agreed, once we arrive, we'll assess the situation further."

"ETA is now seventeen minutes."

"I hate close calls," Compton said as he left the bridge.

T'lep continued to watch the screen, patiently waiting. She remembered one of her books talking about waiting to go into action was the hardest part many captains had to face. As a Vulcan, T'lep was in a better position to master her emotions. However, having been raised by emotional people for most of her childhood, she often had difficulty suppressing her emotions. Her mother's katra had helped her maintain her emotional stability following her mother's death and father's disappearance, but after her katra had faded, T'lep was left alone.

"Captain, coming up on the stranded vessel."

T'lep was forced to focus on the task at hand. "Bring us along side." She went back to the science station, and began scanning the vessel, noting that there were no power emissions, and that one life sign was registering. She then opened up a channel to engineering. "Chief, we are approaching the vessel."

"Understood. Everything should be working, I'm going to keep the lights on down here."

T'lep raised an eyebrow at the chief's colorful language. Deciding not pursue it, she closed the channel and opened up one to the doctor. "Doctor, we are approaching a stranded vessel. Sensors show one life sign aboard. Earlier contact suggests that he may be without atmosphere aboard his vessel."

"I'll meet you at transporter room three. It's near Sickbay."

"Understood, on my way," T'lep said, closing the channel. She then turned to face the viewscreen. "Kiel, you have command."

"Yes, captain," Kiel said, way too happy given the circumstances.

T'lep turned and entered the turbolift, wondering once again what would cause a man to so hate the Federation.

-o-0-o-

When T'lep entered the transporter room, the doctor was already waiting with a medical kit open. The older medical devices looked ready for use, so T'lep used the transporter console to scan the other vessel, quickly finding the one life sign still aboard. She engaged the transporter, and the being quickly materialized into a light skinned Trill male with dark colored hair.

Once the beam was complete, the doctor gave the man an injection, as he lay on the pad gasping for air. It took several moments, but finally the man lay back, as the doctor checked him out.

"Where's the captain?" he asked, his voice deep and gruff.

"I am the captain of this ship."

"So you ditched your uniform to try and fool me, well it won't work. I refuse to travel aboard this ship. You can take your mighty Federation and keep it. I'm leaving."

"Mister Gos, how do you expect to get off this ship? Yours is stranded, without power, and we are far from any other form of help. For now, you are at best a guest on board this ship. If you like, we can divert to a nearby planet. But as for leaving right now, I cannot accommodate that request."

"No, I won't ask that you divert. I will ask this of you though. I want to be left alone, no one comes looking for me, until we reach Earth."

T'lep nods her head, "As you wish. The ship's manifest show's a set of visitor quarters on deck six that were not in use. You may use them. Power has been resupplied to the food sequencers in the mess hall, so you may eat there. If there is anything else you need, or desire, please see me or one of my crew."

"Thank you, captain," Gos said, getting to his feet. "But all I want right now is to be left alone." With that he turned and walked out of the transporter room, leaving T'lep and the doctor behind him.

-o-0-o-

For Gos, the last several days had just ground to a halt. He expected the ship to be fully manned, the halls crowded and the mess hall to be a noisy assault on his senses. However, since leaving the captain in the transporter room, he hadn't met a single other person.

In six days.

He sat in the mess hall, for lack of a better place, and stared at a holoimage of his wife. He had never been one to shy away from a fight, but he had never sought one out either. He hadn't sought out the Jem'hadar, but they still disabled and boarded the ship he and his wife were using to evacuate Betazed.

He sat there, replaying the fight in his mind again and again. The Jem'hadar soldier blowing a hole in the bulkhead, stepping through, the backhanded way he struck Mesia, and opened fire on him and many others. He could still recall crawling toward his wife, only to find her already dead. The grief he felt while holding her body close, slowly going cold while he tried to weep his grief away.

He never forgave the Federation. Betazed was a core member, and had been lost in hours. They weren't even properly warned. At best he, his wife Mesia, and many others had crammed aboard any vessel that was spaceworthy and tried to flee. The Federation, had abandoned them to the enemy, lied to them about the threat they faced, and left them to die.

How could he forgive them?

He thought of the captain. Wondered about her motives, and why she would go to great lengths to salvage a Federation vessel. He pondered on her motives, but finally decided there was only one way he would get answers.

He would have to ask.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

I may have to change the name of the story as I'm thinking of using a different ship for the new story lines after my massive rewrite of the script. If you have any thoughts about this, please leave them in the comments section please, and I'll write back as soon as I can.

FYI, the new name will probably be Star Trek:Outkast, but I am taking suggestions for both story and ship names.

* * *

 **A/N**

* * *

 **Chapter 10: Chapter 10 - Revelations**

* * *

Chapter 9 – Revelations

T'lep – Sickbay

As T'lep entered sickbay, she wondered what the results of her previous visit had been. Dr. Enyo had detected several anomalies in her DNA, and now it seemed he had the answers. Looking around, she found the doctor waiting by a biobed, and walked over to him.

"Doctor, I presume you have the full results of my last evaluation?"

Dr. Enyo turned, and gestured to the bed, "Go ahead and lie down, captain. There is one last test I need to perform. Starfleet Medical sent me a full report on Vulcan physiology, and I think I can finally say I what the variance in your brain scan is. Just need to do one last test to confirm, and then we can go over the results of your DNA test."

T'lep lie back on the biobed, waiting for the doctor to finish his scans. It took several minutes, but when he finished, he invited her into the office section and they both sat down in chairs. Using the monitor on a portable computer, he turned it so T'lep could see a pair DNA strands. "This is your DNA strand. As you can see, it shares many commonalities with a typical Vulcan DNA displayed on the bottom, which is a given considering your Vulcan heritage. Then I noticed some discrepancies. Starfleet Medical sent me another strand, and after comparing it, you can see that here, the computer flags these commonalities with this other strand."

"What type of DNA is the second strand from?" T'lep asked, wondering why it was cause for concern.

"It's Romulan DNA. As you are well aware, probably more so than the rest of the Federation, Vulcans and Romulans share a common ancestry. The DNA test is the first I had the computer run, while I worked on your brain scan. According to this, one of your immediate ancestors, either your father, or your mother, was Romulan."

"But," T'lep's mind was struggling to catch up to the doctor's words. "Romulan?"

T'lep closed her mind, struggling to find her focus, and clear her mind. Once she had a semblance of calm, she started to work through it logically. Either her mother or father was Romulan. Her father was a high ranking security guard at the Vulcan embassy building, while her mother was a respected scientist. As her mind worked through her vague memories of her parents, she was forced to accept her father was the Romulan. It would explain logically why the Romulan who murdered her parents was arguing with her father. He was ordering a subordinate to carry out a task, one that maybe her father refused to perform. She knew her mother was capable of initiating a mind meld, as she performed one with her the day she died, allowing T'lep to carry her mother's katra. It would also explain why her father had then disappeared. Following the failure of capturing her, the mission would have been scrubbed and they would have returned to Romulus to report their failure. So now the only questions were, was her father alive and where was he, and where was the man who killed her mother?

Opening her eyes, she could see the concern in the doctor's eyes, and decided that he might as well know. "I will presume that my father was a Romulan. Once, on Vulcan, I heard a rumor that Romulans cannot perform mind melds as they are not capable of the focus required to initiate one."

"It's an astute observation. Knowing your parentage doesn't explain the variance I found in your brain scan though." He then tapped some commands into the computer, and showed a series of waves. T'lep didn't have enough of an understanding of biology or neuroscience to understand the information, but could see that one set, presumably hers, did not match either of the other patterns.

"Again, your scan here shows a slightly lower level of psychic activity compared to a typical Vulcan scan. Also, its significantly higher in this spectrum here to a Romulan's brain scan. I've talked with my peer's at Starfleet Medical, and the working theory, short of meeting a Vulcan doctor, is that something has damaged your psychic ability."

"I can answer that question, doctor, but first I must ask if you have ever heard of the term katra."

"Can't say that I have. I'll assume it has a strictly Vulcan inference."

T'lep nodded, "It does. It is a term we use to describe all that a Vulcan is and has been. Human's often refer to it as the soul. Once my ancestors began to perform mind melds, we learned that another person could, for a time, hold all of another person's memories and knowledge, including their essence. We use the term 'katra' to describe it. Once we learned we could transfer our katra out of our bodies, our scientists made a vessel to hold it. After this, when a Vulcan lies dieing, they will initiate a mind meld with another person, and deposit their katra into them. That person is then obligated to climb the steps of Mount Seleya. There, waiting priests will take possession of the katra, and place it into a receptacle in the Hall of Ancient Thought where other Vulcans may come and meld with the katra, and thus continue to grow our knowledge."

"Sounds like a Vulcan thing to do, so you harbored a katra, I take it?"

"Yes, my mothers," T'lep said, sighing in depression. "After she was fatally stabbed, she initiated a mind meld with me, when I was but six human years old. Since I was then discovered by her attacker, I was forced to flee for my life. As you can tell, I escaped, but the cost seems to have come at a price. Since my young brain was," T'lep paused, searching for the right words, "not sufficiently developed, I was unable to properly house her katra. It degraded with time, and I shall assume, caused the damage you are seeing."

"Well," he said, sighing, "It's a good theory, but I lack the knowledge needed to make a definitive analysis. As I said before, I can to a point, make a rational diagnosis, but to make a sure one, you need a specialist. I can say, from talking with my peers, that you are likely to not experience any further loss of ability, but I can't say if you will ever regain proper function. I know you talk of the trauma caused by seeing your mother die, but your brain should have lobotomized itself. This damage may have caused it to not be able to, which means you would need to see a counselor if you have any further problems stemming from those memories."

T'lep shook her head, and stood beside the desk, "I have come to terms with my mother's death long ago. My only course now is to find her killer. Now, I might add a second course to my life."

"Which is?"

T'lep turned to face the doctor, "To find my father."

-o-0-o-

Bedro Gos – Bridge

As he stepped out on the bridge, the first thing Gos noticed was that only the helmsman was here. She immediately turned to face him, smiling, then turned back to the helm controls.

"Is the captain in her ready room?" he asked, trying to be pleasant for the girl's sake. He didn't often try to be pleasant, but the girl hadn't done anything to warrant his ire, yet.

"Not at the moment. Dad called her down to sickbay about an hour ago."

"You mind if I ask you a question?" He said, pulling a chair out of a rear station to sit in while he waited.

"Go ahead, it's a free galaxy around here."

That actually made Gos chuckle, reminding him of his late wife. She was always one to make jokes like that, usually just to make his blood pressure rise. He was about to ask when the turbolift doors opened again, and T'lep stepped out. She noticed Gos, then with a wave of her hand, led him into her ready room. She sat behind the desk while Gos settled himself into one of the comfortable guest chairs. He waited for her to settle in, before starting.

"I've been doing some thinking, first I want to ask why would you salvage this ship? Why help the Federation?"

"I take it you have some personal vendetta against the Federation?"

"During the Dominion War, I was on Betazed. I worked as a technician, maintaining the old space station they had. Then the Jem'hadar came. I was lucky. I was on Betazed on leave when they entered the system. The station I worked on was destroyed in minutes. We tried to evacuate, me and my wife were on this freighter, but they disabled our engines, and we were boarded.

Gos then put his head in his hands, when he spoke again, his voice was low and venom filled. "The Federation left us, they lied to us about the Dominion, and they left us to die. The only reason I'm still alive today is because I refused to go easily. After that, I've refused to have anything to do with any government, because all they do is lie. So, why would you go through all the trouble of salvaging this ship for them?"

T'lep nodded her head, then interlacing her fingers, leaned back in her chair. "Suffice it to say, I need a ship. I was hoping the Federation would not object to me keeping this one. However, they have, but will offer me another, smaller, ship once we bring this ship to Earth."

Gos nodded his head, understanding her motivation in wanting a ship, now he was curious on another subject. "Why?"

T'lep steepled her fingers, looking at the apex of her fingers, "There are two men I wish to find. They are probably somewhere in Romulan space, likely in service to the military or intelligence agencies they have."

"Why would you want to find them?"

"One is my father, I believe he was working as a spy on Vulcan. The other was likely his handler."

Gos took a moment to think on her words. He never knew a Vulcan to be so emotional, but the he realized what he was missing. "You're part Romulan."

"Yes, my father was Romulan, my mother was Vulcan. I would like to find my father, for sentimental reasons if nothing else. However, it is my mother's killer that truly drives me to Romulus. I desire he be brought to justice for his crimes."

"That's a very emotional response."

"It is. Now, back to the issue at hand. I have told you why I want a ship."

"Guess that leads to my second question. Could you use a weapons specialist?"

T'lep seemed thoughtful for a bit, "Of course."

" _Captain, coming up on Earth. We'll be dropping out of warp in two minutes,_ " Kiel said over the intercom.

"Understood, plot course to enter Earth orbit as soon as possible. I'll be on the bridge shortly."

" _Aye, captain._ "

"Welcome aboard, Mister Gos. Soon we'll deliver this ship, and we'll be taking possession of our own vessel. I had your ship towed aboard after we rescued you, you may do with it as you wish."

"Great, and thank you."


	14. MCU - Ice Queen

Frozen - Marvel Cinematic Universe - Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU (for supporting cast)

Chapter 1 = 2 years prior to Iron Man

September 24, 2007 = Monday

Folsom Prison

Elsa walked through the brightly lit gray walls, her head bowed as she listened to the instructions given her. Turn here, stop here, now walk, there was no passion behind the voice that commanded her to do these things as he'd long ago quit caring for the prisoners he guarded. Instead, he kept his left hand, unwanted as it was, on her shoulder as he felt for any tension that might signal he was about to be attacked by the five foot six platinum blonde woman.

You could never tell with drug offenders, he knew. They might be meek and docile one minute, then get a burr up their ass and freak out on you. For that reason, he kept his right hand on his baton when he wasn't using it to key up his mic to escort the prisoner to her meeting in the conjugation room. He sneered at the thought that the taxpayers might have to support a prisoner that was hosting a new life while she was serving thirty years for manslaughter along with possession with intent to distribute.

Elsa continued to follow orders, offering no resistance to the man who would break every bone in her body if he could get away with it. She knew some of these guards got off on the power trip their profession gave them. She privately scoffed at them for their seeming power, but had learned better than to actively oppose them, rubbing at her still tender arm. When she was first incarcerated at Folsom Prison, she had openly scoffed them as having no real power.

She had learned the error of that line of thinking. She barely had time react to the guard's charge with his baton high, and even then only had time to raise her arm to try and deflect the attack. It had left her with a broken ulna that was kept in a soft cast while she waited her time in solitaire. It had taught her more than anything else how far she had fallen.

She did allow her mind to wander as she was marched through the prison's main building, who had wanted to see her. The most likely choice was the District Attorney, here to offer her a reduced sentence in exchange for her suppliers and buyers. She hated that she might have to give them up to the law just so she could run away and not be heard from again.

She mentally shook herself of that thought. If there was one thing she was starting to have to come to grips with, was that in the digital age her powers and immortality were about to come out in the open regardless of how she tried to hide it.

Elsa raised her head as they passed the prison's guest rooms, where outside guests were allowed to talk with incarcerated family and friends. She thought briefly of the DA and his overbearing manner, steeling herself for his used car salesman tactics in trying to get what he wanted. It was only then that she realized they were headed to the conjugal room. That struck her as odd.

"Guard," she said, trying not to sound too authoritarian as she addressed the man with his oily hand on her shoulder. "Why are we going to the conjugal area?"

"That's where they wanted to meet you," she was told, the guard's voice as cold as steel. She swallowed, her mouth going dry. Why the conjugal room? There weren't any cameras there, or so she'd been told, to better allow the men and women meeting there some privacy whilst they consummated, or re-consummated, marriages. She swallowed, her mouth already dry as they stopped at the large steel door.

"Raise your arms above your head," the guard said, and Elsa complied. She was then frisked, the guard being thorough as he checked her for any contraband. She sighed in relief when he finished, and then had the door opened. At least she hadn't felt up like most guards loved to do.

She was marched into the room, finding it empty except for a single woman who stood in front of a steel door. The woman was no taller than her, about five and a half feet with dark brown hair and a light tan. Her suit was dark, but Elsa could make out the distinctive bulge of a gun holster under her left arm, which meant she wasn't just eye candy. She was someone's bodyguard, and that someone had the pull to allow her to keep her firearm while in a maximum security prison where even the guards didn't carry a gun for fear of them getting into the hands of prisoners during a riot.

"Miss Conners," Agent Hill said, as Elsa was led right up to her. She looked her over, taking in the woman's rough appearance. She still had her beauty, something most people lost when they lost themselves to drugs, and her body was almost too thin and light for her to be in her thirties. Her gaze fell on the cuffs that kept her wrists bound, then she turned to face the guard. "Remove the cuffs. He doesn't want to see her like that."

She watched Elsa hesitate before turning to the guard and raising her dainty wrists so he could remove the cuffs. She couldn't fathom why Director Fury insisted on seeing her, unless she was some sort of romantic interest or daughter of a romantic interest. The best feature she could probably compliment Elsa on was the waist long and natural platinum blond hair the woman had. Most women got their blond hair out of a bottle, but eying the just as light roots left no doubt that Elsa's hair was all natural and straight as an arrow. She was downright envious of the little druggie.

Elsa rubbed her wrists as the guard removed the last of the cuffs. She turned to the bodyguard, who stepped to the side and opened the door just enough for her to step inside. When she did, she found the lights in the room were off, with most of the illumination coming from the heavily barred windows. It gave her just enough illumination to see that there was a man in the shadows looking out, and she let out a sigh of relief at seeing Nick Fury standing there.

"Imagine my surprise," he said, not turning around to face her, "to hear you were arrested for growing, selling, and using drugs."

Elsa felt herself grow guilty. She knew Fury had kept an eye on her ever since their paths had first crossed in the late 70's, but he hadn't actually visited her since '87. "Nick," she said, feeling guilty to be intruding into the man's life. She knew that as a security breach she was Nick's responsibility to plug, but up until now he was content to let her be as long as she didn't make waves.

And here she was, making waves.

"Worse than that," he said, finally turning to face her with anger clear on his face. "When they came to arrest you, you killed a man."

"It wasn't," she started to say but Fury raised a hand and silenced her.

"Wasn't what? Intentional?" he asked, stepping toward her. Elsa slumped as she realized she had probably reached the end of the rope she was going to hang herself with tonight.

"They shot me," she said, almost whispering. "The gun fired when my hand clenched. So yeah, I don't blame myself so much that a guy was killed by my stray bullet."

"That's why you don't leave your finger on the trigger when you're running," Nick said, staring into her eyes with his one good one. "You probably don't deserve this," he said, reaching into his trenchcoat to remove something. Holding it out to her, she realized it was a small votive candle.

She took the candle reverently from his hand, placing it on the heavy wooden coffee table in the center of the room. She had no more set it down when Fury's hand appeared beside her, offering her his Zippo. She took it, flicking it open to light it as she knelt beside the candle. As she touched the zippo's flame to the candle, she closed her eyes and started to pray.

"Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May they rest in peace. Amen." As she finished her prayer, she remembered her sister who had passed away back when she was still queen. A tear rolled down her cheek as she remembered her sister's final moments, as she tried to breathe through the congestion, her body sore from the constant shivering and coughing.

She was so weak at the end, she could barely lift her own arm as Elsa showed her the magic she so loved. It was that same arm, as it held a pure ball of light from Elsa's magic, that would fall lifeless to the bed as Elsa cried for her now dead sister. It was the last time she ever had someone to truly talk to and be her friend. She found out much too late in life that being a queen meant that you had no friends, that those close to you wanted to use your position to better themselves or their kingdoms.

Anna, though, she just wanted Elsa to be a part of her life again. She could respect that, wanted it herself, and after she learned to control her power, both girls were never far from each other throughout the day. Right up until the day Anna died, the two were so inseparable that Elsa refused to leave her sister's side even though it meant she might get sick herself. It was a risk she was willing to take, and once her sister had passed, Elsa herself had bundled Anna in the bedspread she had died in.

"I take you lost someone once," she heard Fury say. Opening her eyes, she found he had taken a seat on the sofa and was watching her. She nodded in affirmative to his question, before getting to her feet.

"My sister, Anna," she said, deciding that her secrets were coming out anyway. She moved to sit opposite him, moving the candle slightly so that it was between them. "She died on this day, a hundred and sixty years ago."

"Now that's a long time," Fury said, leaning back into the plush cushion of the couch. "I know you don't age, you look exactly the same when we first met."

Elsa swallowed, not knowing if she should tell Fury the whole truth or not. Weighing the pro's and con's of the situation, she decided it was better to keep him as an ally and not alienate her last friend. "I was born in December 1817, just before Christmas. My parents were King Agnarr and Queen Iduna of Arendelle."

"So you're a princess?" Fury asked, trying to clarify her situation. Elsa looked into his one good eye, seeing a hint of disbelief there. She scoffed at being called a princess, making Fury's head turn slightly at the dismissal.

"Born a princess, maybe," she said, her voice carrying the grief she felt for her missing family. "I was heir assumptive to the throne and was crowned in 1838 after my parents were lost at sea."

She watched as he pulled a smart phone from his pocket, and began typing into it. She gave him a few minutes, and when he lifted the phone to compare a photo he found, she smiled. It was then that she watched Fury's face go slack in surprise as he turned it around to show her a picture of a painting she had once modeled for when she was fifteen. She remembered posing with her parents and sister for the family portrait, how much Anna hated to stand still for the days required and how she had to be coaxed with chocolate to stand still.

"That's my father, King Agnarr, on the throne and my mother, sitting beside him. The redhead beside me is Princess Anna."

"What caused the white streak in her hair? Nineteenth century fashion statement?" Fury said as he went back to inspecting the picture.

"Anna was hit by my power when she was five. Ever since, that one lock of her hair turned white and stayed that way until after I learned to control it," Elsa explained to him.

"Sounds like you've led a long and storied life," Fury said as he tucked the phone away in his jacket.

"I have," Elsa said as she leaned back in the sofa. "I left the royal life behind in 1851, journeying to the United States after I was betrayed by my own Storting. At first, I was content to live the life of a debutante in Boston, but the funds I was living off of were not that vast. One of the ladies was the wife of a cattle baron in North Texas, and I learned from her about the vast expanse of good grazing land in the west and all the cattle that was free for the picking in southern Texas."

"You became a cattle baron?" Nick asked, a little astonished as he watched as her face.

"Yes," she said with a chuckle. "I used the last of my available funds to hire a group of cowboys led by a man named Duke Hudkins. He was entirely against me riding with his cowboys, but I managed to convince him to give me a week long trial riding the hills northwest of Houston. Fun days," she quipped as she went silent.

"I take it you managed to impress him?" Fury asked her.

"Somewhat," she said. "I knew about equestrianism from my royal background, though I was unused to the western saddles they used. I didn't even get the chance to use a sidesaddle."

"Bet that was fun," he snarked at her.

"Just endless joy," she said, smiling at a memory. "Those were some of the most informative days of my life. He taught me the basics of living, though he still hated to take me with him. He taught me how to use his Navy Colt and Winchester so I could bolster the defenses, he even taught me to cook.

"On the trail, I stayed with the cook and the chuck wagon," Elsa said, sighing as she remembered the long days. "We headed out, rounded up a large herd of Texas long horned cattle and headed north in the spring of '52. We probably had over five thousand head of cattle, managed by about twenty cowboys."

"Where'd you head?" Fury asked, pulling his phone out and taking notes.

"We ended up settling in Wyoming," she told him. "My ranch is still there, called the E Bar A. It's about the only thing I still own, besides what personal items I carry. First thing we built were the bunk houses. After that we built the first ranch house, which ended up burning down four years later. Our second ranch house was even bigger, and is still there. It houses most of the mementos of my past, and remains a tribute to the original hands of the E Bar A."

"Why'd you leave it behind?" Fury asked her and noticed the tear roll down her cheek from her left eye.

"Because I don't age," she breathed, finally wiping the tear away. "I buried Duke in the E Bar A's cemetery in 1871. After that, I placed a new foreman in charge and left the daily operation of the ranch to him. I'd correspond with them, keeping my appearances brief and my face veiled in the presence of the cowboys, usually passing myself off as the heir of Elsa, the original owner."

"What did you do after leaving the E Bar A? Start other ranches?"

"No," Elsa said, shaking her head. "One thing I learned about cowboys; it's a small world they live in. I couldn't hire more without running the risk of hiring a cowboy who might know me from before. In the parlance of the time, I drifted on, becoming a school teacher in Kansas for a while. After several years in an area, I'd move on. Sometimes becoming a teacher, or starting a business such as a saloon or a cafe."

"So when did you start using drugs?"

"I started drinking laudanum in the mid 1850's," she told him, leaning her head back onto the sofa to stare into the ceiling.

"Laudanum? Don't think I've heard of that," Nick told her.

"Not a common one anymore," she said, silently wishing for something to take the edge off the pain she felt at the old memories. "It was a mix of water and opium and was used as a pain reliever, especially for serious injuries or post operative relaxers. It helped me relieve the pain of just living."

"Opium," Nick sighed, understanding that drug all too well. Opium was the flower from which morphine and codeine was made, the best pain relievers known to man. He eyed the blonde with his good eye, and finally understood why she was a druggie.

In the forty years he had been both a special forces operative of the Air Force and later SHIELD agent, he'd lost a lot of good men. Their deaths were painful at times, but he kept the pain at bay by telling himself that each man died for a reason. A brick in the foundation for peace. How bad was it to live her life, never aging, afraid of forming any type of bond with another person because you knew for a fact as sure as the sun would rise in the morning that you'd see them grow old and die. How long could he last before he would start to need something to take the edge off? Forty years? Fifty? And she was almost two hundred years old.

He shook his head at the thought. She was almost as old as the US itself. Her kingdom was gone, the Storting which replaced it collapsing a decade later in a wash of corruption and greed and was taken over by Norway. Every child she had taught to read and write was nothing but a pile of bones in some grave and now just a name on some weathered marker. 'Maybe she had a right to use drugs, she certainly had a reason,' he thought as he watched her.

"So, Nick," Elsa said as she finally brought her head back up to face him. "Are you going to transfer me to your private prison, or let me face the music?"

"How about a third option?" he said, and Elsa locked eyes with him. "You seem to know enough about using a gun to be considered a threat, and from what I hear, if you hadn't been trying to save the man you shot you would have gotten away."

"I'm not a murderer, Nick," Elsa said, getting stern with the spy for the first time in their decades long knowing of each other. "Sure, I might have killed a few Injun bucks attacking my ranch back in the day, but that was war. Them or me. I didn't even kill the one that shot me in the gut."

"You were shot?" Nick asked her, and Elsa nodded her head.

"Fifty caliber Sharps to the stomach at very close range," and Fury winced and groaned in sympathy. "Bullet blew a hole out my back, knocked me off my horse. I was left to die, but my cowboys found me and brought me home. I was flat out for months, that's when I started drinking the laudanum. Since it relieved _ALL_ my pain, I kept drinking it."

"I'd love to see the scar on that one," Nick said under his breath.

"That's the beauty of being me," Elsa said smiling. "My skin's as flawless as the day of my coronation."

"Ever push the envelope on what you can withstand?" Fury asked, and Elsa shook her head.

"Never wanted to," Elsa responded. "I hurt if injured, get drunk when I drink hard liquor, and burn my hand if I grab the skillet without an oven mitt. I take time to heal, just like anyone else, and the closer I get to death, the longer I take to heal."

"Ever try drowning?"

Elsa began laughing. "No, I was raised before swimming was a thing. We didn't even get proper swimsuits for almost a century later."

"Tell you what," Fury said as he stood up. "You come work for me, do some undercover work and research, serve out your time working for SHIELD."

"And if things don't work out?" Elsa asked from the couch.

"Then I throw you in one of SHIELDS special prisons," Fury said as he looked down at the blonde. "But you take your orders from me, you do as I say, and you leave the illicit drugs behind."

"Since you have me over a barrel here," Elsa said as she stood beside Nick. "I don't have to sleep with anyone, do I?"

"That's up to you," he said as he headed for the door. He put his hand on the door, then turned back to where he left Elsa standing. "In or out?"

Elsa took a moment to think it over, then said "In."

"Pack your bags," he said, smiling back at her. "I'll have an agent pick you up as soon as we can write up your release forms."

"Thank you, Nick," she said, as Nick opened the door to reveal the agent outside staring down three prison guards.

"No problem," he said as he stepped past the agent. Elsa could barely hear him as he addressed the three guards. "I gave her a candle, and if I hear any of you three blew that candle out before she puts it out, I'll have you arrested and locked up in Leavenworth."

With that, Fury disappeared through another door and the guards entered the conjugal room to secure her with her cuffs. Elsa allowed herself to be cuffed without putting up a fight or even saying a word. She was glad to be getting out of jail, now she just had to survive what Nick was going to throw at her.


	15. MCU - Ice Queen Chapter 2

Frozen - Marvel Cinematic Universe - Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU (for supporting cast)

Chapter 2

September 26, 2007 = Wednesday

Folsom Prison

The day started like any other for Elsa, and was eating her breakfast when she saw the guards eyeing her. She didn't pay them much attention at first, one of the first rules she had been told by her bunk mate was not to get chummy with the guards. Still, she couldn't help but eye them. Nick had said she'd be leaving prison as soon as they could get the paperwork through, and though this was only the second day after Nick's leaving, she was hopeful it meant she was leaving.

As she was leaving the prison lunchroom, she was cornered by two guards. "Miss Conners," one of them asked. "You're being transferred to another facility. Is there anything you want from your cell?"

She smiled, knowing her 'transfer' was likely Nick's way of getting her out of prison. Besides, in her two months of incarceration, she hadn't been able to acquire any extra's that couldn't be bought for five bucks at a dollar store. "Nope. Let Dawn have it."

"Follow me then," he said, turning and leading her down the hall. She followed, and the other guard followed after to make sure she didn't try anything. Not that she would, she didn't want to jeopardize her chances at escape.

They took her to the administration building, where a man stood waiting in tan slacks and a black coat with the US Marshals emblem emblazoned on it. Her hopes for getting lost in a transfer fell when the man pulled a full restraint setup from his bag. Elsa stood still while they fastened the thick leather belt around her waist. They then fastened the ankle cuffs to her ankles, looping the chain through the leather belt's large metal ring several times so she couldn't stretch her legs to run. The next thing he pulled out were a pair of weighted ankle belts that were fastened to her calves. Each one felt like twenty pounds, and Elsa found it uncomfortable to even walk, let alone run.

The marshal then pulled out a black bag that they slid her hands into before tightening it on her wrists. She flexed her hands experimentally, before straightening them out as they continued to tighten the bag around her hands. They then took the straps at the end of the bag and tightened them at her back, locking her hands uselessly at her waist.

"Alright, Miss Conners," the Marshal said with a thick British accent as he stepped back in front of her. "We're transferring you to Pelican Bay State Prison in Crescent City." Several of the guards oohed at the name, wincing in sympathy. "If you're nice on the trip, I won't gag you and place your head in this," he said as he held up a leather face mask. Elsa nodded, any hope that Nick was behind this dying to embers.

"Alright, everything looks good," one of the guards said as he handed the US Marshal a large file that contained all of Elsa's records. Another guard opened up the door leading to the parking garage where a large black van sat with its rear door open. There was nothing inside it but a few cardboard boxes, and Elsa shuffled forward as best she could with the weighted bags strapped to her calves. The marshal only took her elbow to steady her as she lifted her heavy legs to the step, shuffling forward as best she could.

Once inside, the marshal finally climbed in and escorted her to a chair near the front. There she sat in the chair while the marshal secured her for the ride, while the prison guards watched. When the harness was secured around her, he exited the vehicle and locked the door from the outside, then got in the front seat. With nothing to do but listen to the tires hum along the road, Elsa closed her eyes and thought of Anna.

After a few minutes, a few taps on the metal partition brought her out of her self-loathing. "So, how long do you think it will take you to get out of those restraints?"

"Bigger question is, how long will you throw me in solitaire if I do," she snarked, smiling as she fingered the leather.

"Well, I don't actually believe in solitaire. SHIELD doesn't either, least I don't think they do. Never been to one," he said as he drove on. "Once you get out, the clothes you were wearing when arrested are in the boxes."

"What, no privacy?" she said as she looked around the bare van. The Marshal reached up and turned the rear view mirror to the roof of the van.

"I'm going to give you five minutes to get out," he said as he looked forward to the road. "Then I'm going to turn my mirror back on you. In twenty minutes, when we get to where we're going, I'll come back and let you out, but then I'm going to watch you change out of that prison uniform."

Elsa smiled, flexing her fingers. "You want these restraints back in one piece?"

"Na," he said, shaking his head. "But consider this your first test at SHIELD."

Elsa almost broke out in a wide grin. Nick was a slick one for how he operated. Willing the ice into her hands, she froze the leather pouch that was wrapped around her hands and then broke the strap that constrained them around her waist. With her hands free, she made a small toothpick of ice and forced it down in the key hole of the leather belt around her waist, then forced more ice until it clicked and unlocked.

Bending over, she used the slip of ice to pick the weighted bags from her calves, then the ankle cuffs. Once she was free of all the restraints, she piled them beside her in the van, then knelt down and ruffled through the boxes to get her clothes. She pulled them out, along with her other personal effects and stripped off her clothes.

She relished putting on her white panties and bra as they fit better than what she had been able to secure from the prison commissary. Her socks were next, then she pulled her light colored blue jeans from the paper bag and slipped her legs into them. She then slipped her feet into her shiny Chooka Low Tops and tightened the strap. She rummaged through a few more bags, finding her green utility jacket, her Navy Colt, it's shoulder harness, her wallet and chain, but no shirt.

"Hey, where's my shirt?" she asked the driver. To his credit, he didn't turn around to look at her, but shook his head.

"Destroyed after the trial," he said and Elsa sighed against the wall of the van. "It was all the blood. They cut some of the bloody pieces out, making it useless. I didn't know your size, but I figured you could use your jacket until we could get you a replacement at the mall."

Elsa slipped the shoulder harness on then covered it with her jacket, zipping it up enough to hide her purple bra. Fondling her pistol, she grimaced and put in the holster before swapping seats to look at the SHIELD agent. "So, what's the plan?"

"My name is Agent Pratt," he said, continuing to look forward. "Director Fury sent me to retrieve you and get you trained. I'll assume since you're asking about your shirt, you've slipped the cuffs?"

"Easily," Elsa said and looked at him, studying her instructor. He had very dark hair, but in the light coming through the window she could see it was actually a somewhat brownish color. His square face had a strong jaw line, and he was thin but well muscled. Reminded her of her of the cowboys on her ranch. "I'm also dressed, so you can look if you want."

"Being a tease, luv?" he said as he readjusted the mirror to look at her. "So you know a thing or two about getting out of tight spots, and the word on the grapevine is you know a few things about guns."

Elsa slipped her old Colt out of its holster and showed it to him. "Enough to know I need .45 cartridges for this old thing."

"What an antique," he said. "Where'd you pick up that rust pot of a pistol?"

"I imagine Fury would say that's classified," she said as she slipped back into its holster. "I also imagine that anything about my life is classified."

"What are you? The Winter Soldier?" he said, turning to eye her. "I always thought you were a guy."

"Who's the Winter Soldier?" she asked, and Pratt chuckled.

"An enigma, literally," he said as he drove on. "The Soldier has been active since the '50's. He's a KGB assassin with scores of kills, and has never been identified. I know a girl, a rather good operative herself who was protecting an engineer from Iran. She said the Winter Soldier disabled her car, then to kill the engineer she was protecting shot him right through her. No emotion, no feelings, just a stone cold killer."

"Sounds like the worst kind of assassin," she said as she leaned against the wall.

"Never met him, but he's more of a ghost story," Pratt said, then shook his head. "I think it's more of a mantle they pass from assassin to assassin. Sort of a master assassin title."

"Yeah, but the KGB fell with the USSR in the 90's," Elsa explained. "Why would a master assassin continue to use the mantle of a disbanded agency?"

"For the notoriety," he said. "Some people have no clue what an assassin looks like, but they know a name. You build it, give it meaning, it becomes part of your identity. Eventually, people build their own idea of what you look like, how you act. That's when the name itself becomes what you guard. People start to besmirch it, copy it, and then you have to defend it."

"So the Winter Soldier is just a name and out there somewhere is a guy, probably Russian, that SHIELD can't find?" Elsa asked incredously. "How can that be?"

"Well, first, we don't even know what he looks like. His face is always covered, and he avoids any form of camera."

"So what about me?" Elsa asked as she changed the subject. "What happens to me now?"

"Well, several options on that," he said as they pulled into a shopping center. "I can borrow a gym and train you until you're physically fit, then take you to a gun range and train you in every conceivable weapon made."

Elsa blanched at that, not that she hated the thought of training but that she'd be spending so much time with a man she didn't know. "Or?" she prompted.

"You could enlist," he offered as he parked the van in front of the four military centers that recruited out of the mall.

"Enlist? Then how do I get back out?"

"You let SHIELD worry about that," he said as he climbed out of the van, leaving his coat behind to wear just a plain black T-shirt. Elsa moved to the rear door as she waited for Agent Pratt to open the door. When he did, he Elsa stepped down as he continued on. "At least they can teach you some of the things that don't come easy. Discipline, honor….killing," he said grimacing as he said the last one.

"So what about being a spy?" Elsa asked as she shut down behind her.

"That's mostly overblown," Pratt said as he gestured for Elsa to follow him. "It's not as fun or glamorous as Hollywood makes it out to be. For example, my last mission involved me going deep undercover in London as a cab driver."

"Cab driver?" Elsa asked astonished.

"Don't laugh," Pratt said as they entered the mall. "It takes a year or more to learn the routes through the heart of London and get your certification. I cheated, had a dispatcher always giving me directions, but it worked out."

"So, what does….our boss," Elsa said as they passed a group of kids, "want with people who take the cab?"

"Bugging some high profile gits in the one location they wouldn't figure to be bugged," he said as they continued on. "And nice save on the name switch. Boss doesn't want to be identified just anywhere, so keep his name mum. Never know who might be listening."

"Got it," she said as they walked into a store selling women's T-shirts. "So, how deep were you as a cab driver?"

"Oh, not very," he said as he looked around, feeling a bit conspicuous in the store. "Had a fake name and some papers establishing my ID in case some sod asked for it, but other than that, it wasn't that bad. I've went undercover once, back in my first year here. Lasted a bloody year," he said, scoffing and shaking his head. "Made me hate high school all over again."

"You went to high school again?" Elsa asked as she examined a tank top. "I've heard it's unbearable."

"Bloody right," he said, shaking his head. "Barely got alive the first time. Still, we go where we're told. Sometimes we protect people without them knowing we're there. Like the bird I was friend's with. Saved her life and she never knew I was sent there, she just thought me a good friend."

Taking the tank top she had been studying into a dressing room, Elsa shrugged out of her coat and shoulder harness and pulled on the tank top. Studying herself in the mirror, she smiled at the image. "So, back to my training. _IF_ ,' she said, stressing the last word, "I choose the military for my training, are you going to be one of my instructors?"

"Na," she heard him say through the curtain. "I'd stick out on a military base. Course, we could always backstop you in for a farm girl, I hear their training is just as brutal, and they'd actually teach a thing or two about spying."

"Which group would that be?" Elsa asked as she was not sure who the farm girl's belonged to, or if she'd even heard of them.

"The CIA, of course," he said. "They got their own form of basic training. They call it the Farm, and that's done in Virginia, I think."

Elsa examined herself in the dressing room's mirror, liking the shades of turquoise and blue on the shirt and how it formed on her body. "So, tell me about the military training. What does that entail?"

"Depends on the branch," he said, as Elsa removed the shirt so she could pay for it. She might normally have shopped for hours just for a single shirt but she had a feeling that the next few months wouldn't require said shirt and she'd only need it for the next few hours. "Air Force training is done in San Antonio, Texas. It's not as intense as say Marine Corps training on Parris Island, which is where they'll send you.

"The Middle ground would be the Army. Not quite as intense as the Marines, but they'll teach you all about warfare. Which just leaves the Navy. Again, like the Air Force, not very intense and mission specific, but it gets the job done."

"Mission specific?" Elsa asked as she came out with the shirt in her hands. She had her coat on and her holster back where it belonged.

"Yeah," Pratt drawled as he looked around. "Navy teaches you how to handle problems that you might have to deal with on a ship, including how to handle drowning victims, fires, stuff like that."

"You mean swimming?" Elsa said, aghast at the thought. "I've never swam in my life!"

"That'll be a deal breaker then," he said with a laugh. "They'll teach you to sail, but I imagine they want you know how to swim."

"So either the Army or the Air Force?" Elsa said, almost wincing. She was about to say the Air Force because she _DID_ know how to fly an airplane, having learned to fly crop dusters in the sixties. Sometimes she'd find herself near an airport and would spend hours watching the planes come and go. It was during those hours she'd wish she could leave the drugs alone long enough to fly again. Sadly, any attempt to stay off the drugs long enough to clean herself up meant she had to face her past, and she couldn't do it.

It wasn't until she'd spent her first week in county jail that she had been forced to go fully clean. For the first time in a long time, she could say she had a level head on her shoulders, and was able to think clearly on a lot of things, and not just where her next fix was coming from. It allowed her to weigh her life on a balance and come up wanting. Anna would most definitely not have approved of her using drugs.

So why did she hesitate on the Air Force?

Sighing, she looked at Pratt and steeled herself. "I'll take the Army," she said simply.

"Good choice," he said as he looked around the store. "Anything else we need while we're here? We can always come back later."

"Yeah," Elsa said as she glanced around. "Find out what I can take from the recruiter then we can return to get it. Might also find out how long I'm going to have to wait for the next class to start."

"Yeah, well," he said as we started for the register. "I think the next class at Fort Jackson starts next Monday."

"Great," Elsa said without any enthusiasm whatsoever as she laid the shirt on the counter. She didn't know if she should be happy or sad that she could begin training so soon.

"Don't get so happy all of a sudden," he joked with her. "A body might not take it."

"Sorry," Elsa said as she turned to face him. "Just thinking of flying again."

"You flew?" he asked her in an astonished tone.

"Crop dusters," she said as the clerk rang the shirt up. "It's fun, you end up loving the thrill of flying thirty feet off the ground at over a hundred miles an hour."

Pratt paid for the shirt as Elsa took the bag the clerk put it in. "Well, the Army doesn't have an air force anymore…."

"No, but my last flight didn't end well for me," Elsa confessed as they left the store. "I had issues back then, things I'm still dealing with."

"That what got you in prison?" he asked as they stepped into the sun.

"Yeah," she said, hanging her head. "I got into drugs real bad. Used to fly when I was higher than a kite. Finally crashed my plane and the FAA yanked my license to fly."

"Want it back?" he asked as they got closer to the van.

"Y-you can do that?" Elsa stammered.

"We're SHIELD, we can do whatever we want in practically any country on Earth," he said. "Which begs a hundred other questions I need to ask you."

"Like?" Elsa prompted.


	16. Frozen Avenger Idea 2 Chap 01

Chapter 1

December 23, 2009

Elsa sat alone in a booth in a small restaurant in Kansas City, Kansas as she sipped her tea. It was December twenty-third, and like most years, she celebrated another year of her eternal youth. Soon the waitress would be back to take her order, and if she wasn't mistaken, _he'd_ be here by then. She grimaced at the thought of meeting Director Fury again. He would always try to charm her into joining his Strategic Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. He could make a good offer, but she wasn't interested in becoming a killer.

"Miss Connor," Nick said, as he slid into the seat opposite her. "I swear you don't look a day older than when we first met in 1987."

"Good genetics, I guess," Elsa said, momentarily hiding her unease as she sipped her tea.

"That what we're going with this year?" Fury asked, giving her a hard eye. "You know I can track you all the way back to the early sixties, so you're older than me yet you look young enough to be my granddaughter."

"I don't understand why I'm still young," Elsa said honestly. "I do know I've lived a long and somewhat storied life, but it'll be a story that will never be told."

"I still think you're some kind of Hydra experiment," Fury said as the waitress came back. "Coke and a steak, medium."

"Baked potato, right?" the waitress asked and Fury nodded. "For you, miss?"

"Grilled telapia with steamed broccoli," Elsa told her and the waitress nodded and walked away. After the waitress had gone, Elsa looked at Fury. "So, what brings you here this year? Another guess at my origins?"

"Alright, best guess?" Fury said as he leaned back in the booth's corner. "You were a Norwegian citizen kidnapped by HYDRA and subsequently given a version of Erskine's super soldier serum. It didn't work like they wanted, you didn't go bad and escaped to America where you just want to hide but help people where you can."

"Well," Elsa said, drawing the word out as she thought over Fury's idea on her origins. "Not Norwegian, was never kidnapped by HYDRA, the only shot's I've ever been given are immunizations, and while I did escape to America, it wasn't to run from a Nazi organization. It was to start over."

"And no idea in all that why you don't age?"

Elsa shook her head. "Not since the day I turned my world on its head, which was when I was twenty-one."

"And how many years has it been since then?" Fury asked, then smirked at Elsa's incredulous reaction.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to ask a woman's age?" Elsa laughed out, which made Fury chuckle.

"Okay, that one was on me," he said smiling. "So, how are you set for the next ten years?"

"I found a guy in Florida that does American identities," Elsa told him. "It's going to cost me four hundred grand, but I'm told it will hold up to scrutiny."

"That would be Jeffries in Tampa," Fury said as he looked at the ceiling. "I bet you haven't talked to him since this morning."

"No, last week," Elsa said then slumped. "You picked him up?"

"He was supplying ID's to terrorists, had to," Nick said, then reached across the tabled to put a hand on her arm in a comforting gesture. "Sorry, but that's my job."

"I'm sure I can find another person," Elsa said, somewhat defeated. "I was told he was the best, though."

"He was, but I know some people who are better."

"Who?" Elsa asked, leaning back into her seat to better study Fury.

"SHIELD," he finally said.

"I'm not going to join a militaristic unit," she started when Nick lifted his hand and gestured for her to hold off.

"I need something done that's not militaristic. Simple infiltration. I need a woman to go in, get some info, get it to me, and let me work," he said, leaning in to keep his tone low so he wouldn't be overheard. "If it goes to plan, you won't even get noticed. Just another young pretty face in the office that gets the boot after the boss goes to jail."

"Sounds so simple," Elsa groused. "All the better to tempt me with, right?"

"Well, I am hoping you'll join us. Not everything we do is with guns," Fury said as he studied Elsa intently. "Sometimes, we just need info to grease the gears of justice with."

"And if everything goes wrong? What if I'm found out?" Elsa said, worried what a sadistic mind might do to her.

"You'll be monitored, and if something goes wrong we'll come in full force and just make you disappear. You'll start off with a new ID going in, and a fresh one once your job is done."

Elsa sighed as she heard the terms. A new ID was becoming harder to get in recent years as computers became more widespread. And it wasn't like she didn't have the time to devote to getting his info.

"Fine," she said, as the waitress brought their orders out and Fury waited until the waitress was gone before slipping an envelope to her.

"There's your new name, important papers, bio and a bank account in California for you to use, including an apartment." Elsa opened it and studied the name on the new driver's license.

"Elsa Winters?"

"In all the years I've known you," Fury said, cutting into his steak, "You seem to favor the name Elsa. It's either been a first or middle name so I figured it was important to you."

"It's the name my parents gave me," she said slipping back in the envelope and tucking it all in her purse.

"Thought it might be something like that," Fury said as he bit into his steak. After swallowing his food he continued on, "I don't know what I'd do if I just found out I couldn't get old. Probably keep on protecting America, working in the shadows.

Elsa smiled wanly at that. "But what happens in two hundred years? What happens when America falls?" She studied his shocked expression. "I've lived long enough to know and testify to the fact that all empires fall. Nothing is infallible."

Fury thought that over in silence while they ate. When it was done, he picked up the tab with a credit card. "Is that why you don't want to join us?" he asked as they stepped outside.

"Partly," Elsa offered walking down the street. "But in the end, I'm just not the military type."

"Well, I need that intel. I hate to pull good agents and send them after small potatoes like this, and maybe I can convince you to at least help me keep this country together and fight some enemies that are still trying to take over."

"If need be, I'll help. I've been in this country a long time," Elsa told him, still trying to keep her secrets safe. "But I've seen empires fall before. I have yet to see true evil though, but I remember the Nazi's and what it took to stop the Japanese. I can see it happening again, and honestly Nick, today's kids don't have it in them to push that line to win."

"Yeah, I know," he said as he stopped at a large, black SUV. "That's why I need good agents. Even if all they do is gather intel."

"I'll get the intel for you," Elsa said, averting her eyes from Nick's stern gaze. "But you have yet to tell me whom I'm getting it from."

"Obadiah Stane," Nick said, opening the door to get in. "He's the second-in-command at Stark Industries."

Elsa felt her face fall. "Oh."

Chapter 2

October 29th, 2010

It had been almost a year since their last meeting, and Elsa was anxious to get this one over with. At their last meeting, Director Fury had asked her to go undercover to get the dirt on Obadiah Stane as he was supposedly selling Stark weapons to Middle East terrorist cells. She had never found the dirt on Stane, though she had tried unsuccessfully on several occasions to hack into his computer. Fury had even given her some technological help but the computers of Stark Industries refused to be broken.

Then Tony Stark had been kidnapped by a terrorist cell, mysteriously escaping and returning to sunny California where he turned the world on its ear as he shut down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark Industries. Elsa had scoffed at that. What kind of weapons company doesn't make weapons anymore?

After that, in the intervening weeks that followed, Stark had apparently built an extremely advanced suit of armor dubbed by media as 'Iron Man' armor while Stane built his own much larger version right under her nose.

Elsa huffed at that as she left her car down the street from the diner she was supposed to meet Fury at. She had known about the original Iron Man suit, having processed paperwork for the Stark Tech to be returned to America personally. She had passed that on to Fury, along with some other information regarding a movie file she'd found in his email. She spoke only a little Arabic, mostly enough to understand when she was being addressed from her royalty days, but she understood the fact that Tony was in the background and that it seemed like a ransom demand.

Fury had dispatched a team of proper agents then, and tried to take Stane into custody, but Stane had used the Iron Monger suit to escape, only getting caught when Mister Stark himself arrived in his Iron Man suit and stopped him. Now, he was 'cleaning house' at Stark Industries and she had her own appointment with the billionaire playboy super hero to decide her fate. She didn't harbor any delusions about her chances of remaining with the company now; she was already packed to leave once she got the boot.

She entered the cafe and sat in a dark corner, taking the better lit side for herself. She didn't have to wait long before Fury entered, still wearing his thick leather black trenchcoat and eye patch to look every bit the super spy he was supposed to be. He didn't even look around before heading towards her, as if he knew exactly where she had been the entire time.

"Nick," she said, greeting the older looking man, though she knew she could easily be considered his great great grandmother.

"Elsa," he said, smiling a bit. "Thanks for that intel. May have saved some lives by tipping us off about Stane."

Elsa flushed, looking down at her hands as the waitress came by with the menus and took their drink orders. Once the waitress had left, she looked at Nick. "Well, it's over anyway. Stane is dead, Stark is cleaning house and I'm meeting with him and the board of directors tomorrow to discuss what I knew and didn't know.

"About that," Nick said, pausing as the waitress returned with his coffee and her tea. "I'd like for you to stay on and keep doing what your doing."

Elsa was shocked at that. "The job is done and Stane is dead. What more could I do?"

"I need you to keep an eye on Stark," Nick said and Elsa scoffed at his idea. "I'll agree, you likely won't get as close to him as you did with Stane, but he just came out last night as Iron Man. He's going to create some enemies."

"He made his bed," Elsa told him. "I also remember seeing one of your agents next to him right before he took the mic and revealed himself."

"Yeah," Nick said, dipping his head to stare into his coffee. "We warned him not to, it's not our first rodeo either."

"So, as I said," Elsa said, staring Nick's remaining good eye. "He made his bed."

Nick sighed. "If it were ever that simple. Stark's armor is the single most advanced piece of tech on the planet. The only thing that would be more desired if it got out, is your seeming never ending youth."

"Don't threaten me, Nick," Elsa said, setting her face. "I'm not sure how good it is anyway. I starve if I don't eat, I thirst if I don't drink and it takes me just as long to recover from a bullet wound as you would."

Nick looked at her, wonder in his face. "You were shot?"

"Long time ago, but yes," Elsa said, settling into her seat as she thought about the young brave who had gotten lucky and put one in her stomach back in the fifties. The eighteen fifties. "Fifty caliber slug to the gut. Don't recommend that one."

"I'll take it under advisement," Nick said, smiling. "You know, too bad you don't like me. I got an agent, lets just call her Natasha, she'd have a ball if she had your never-ending youth. That lady is a one woman army."

"So why not send her to get close to Stark?"

"She's on assignment right now," Fury told her. "She's trying to stop a black market trade into Afghanistan before our boys in green get shot full of holes."

"And no one else is close enough?"

"Any body I send right now would be immediately suspected as a plant," Fury explained. "You though? You're already in, got tenure, worked for the number two guy and as far as most people are concerned, just another pretty face in the secretarial pool."

"Mainly because I am," Elsa said, turning her glass of tea as she thought it over. "You're putting me in deep undercover. Like an agent on one of those cop shows that goes undercover so long, she eventually gets married and has kids while everyone calls her by her undercover name."

"True, but you don't have a normal life outside of what you do undercover," Fury pointed out. "In fact, at this point, not only would you be doing us a service, but we'd be providing you with a service as well."

"My continued need for new identities in the digital age," Elsa said, feeling defeated. She finally pulled her resolve together to snark back, "Gee, Nick, why don't you just issue me a badge and a gun?"

Nick pulled a leather wallet from his pocket and slid it over the table. Elsa picked it up, finding a metal badge and an ID card listing her name as simply 'Elsa' inside. She also noticed that it didn't list a birth date, just her physical description and her occupation as agent. "You get the gun when you finish training," he said, smiling wide enough to show his teeth.

Elsa folded the wallet up, leaving it on the table top. "I guess that's it then. If I take that, I become one of you."

"You can always quit whenever you feel we're no longer going the same direction," Fury explained to her. "Hell, if you're lucky, you might be running the operation in a hundred years."

"Do I have to write down all my past?" Elsa asked him, as her fingers opened the wallet again to examine the contents. It felt so final to her, that if she took it, she'd finally be giving in to years of Fury's requests to join SHIELD.

"Not necessary," Fury said, leaning back into the corner of the booth. "But if you would like to fill in the gaps in what we know, it's appreciated."

"I think I'll leave my past in my in the past," Elsa told him and he nodded. "So, stay on Stark?"

"As best you can," Fury told her. "Which means you keep your job at Stark Industries. Also, do your best to stay out of the limelight."

"I do that anyway," Elsa told him as she tucked the SHIELD ID into her suit jacket. "Ever since my aviation accident in '86."

"That's what put you on our radar," Fury explained. "Your little stunt plane crash got an agent to investigate your past. He just wanted to know what training you had in airplane mechanics. Imagine his surprise when he found Fiona Harding died at the age of seven."

"Not my personal best," Elsa explained. "But the girl didn't have need of it anymore, and it came with a social security number."

"Well, as long as you're with SHIELD, we'll provide you with your identities," Fury told her.

"So, if I can get close to Mister Stark," Elsa asked him. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just keep tabs on him, and let us know if anything goes wrong."

"Sounds easy," Elsa told him.

"It is," Fury added. "This is a cake walk compared to some missions. But, you are free to accept or reject any mission for any reason. We're an agency committed first and foremost to the safety and security of the world."

"I think I can appreciate that," Elsa told him, sipping at her tea. "So, do we get together and have a company picnic?"

"Not really," Fury said, still grinning. "But occasionally they do get together and help the big boss out."

Elsa glanced around at the seated guests, as everyone pulled a wallet similar to hers and flashed their ID's. Elsa laughed as she took it all in, as she scanned each guest and waitress to see them all with badges. "Is everyone here an agent?"

"Even the cook," Fury said. "Our chemist, Qi Lin, makes a wonderful waffle. You'll have to try it sometime."

"Probably puts mayonnaise in them," Elsa explained and Nick cocked his head to the side. "When you spend as long as I have eating the same basic food, you experiment."

"Next year, we're meeting at you're place," Fury said, still laughing as everyone went back to their dinners. "I'd love to see what all you've learned about mixing food."

"You're on," Elsa said, smiling to the man. Inside though, she was a war of emotion. What had she gotten herself into?

Chapter 3

October 30th, 2010

Elsa sat outside the boardroom and waited on Pepper Potts to call her name. The whole morning had been one meeting after another as various people who had one way or another orchestrated the sale of restricted weapons to unqualified buyers met the boss and either got axed or demoted. Judging by the state of the last girl who had burst through the door who was in tears, Elsa figured most were getting the ax.

Elsa turned to look at Pepper as she opened the boardroom door, wincing slightly as her name was called. She picked up her folder, containing the evidence SHIELD had provided that she had provided the information on Stane selling weapons to the authorities, but was too late for them to arrest Stane. It was flimsy, but she hoped it was enough to erase any doubts that she wasn't loyal to the company, also it gave her legal ground to avoid firing under federal whistle-blower laws.

She walked into the room, where a large U-shaped desk sat. At the apex, Tony Stark sat where he was looking at a computer screen. He was dressed in a high dollar business suit, and wore sunglasses with a ruby haze to them. She smiled at the thought of the old country-western song about rose colored glasses. Aside from Pepper, they were alone in the room.

"Elsa Winters?" Tony asked and Elsa nodded. "Hired just under a year ago. Been the personal assistant for Obadiah Stane for most of that time. Question, how do you not know he's been organizing the sale of Stark weaponry?"

"I only found out recently," Elsa told him handing Pepper her folder to go through. "I informed proper authorities as soon as I had evidence."

"Pepper?" Tony asked her as she went through the folder.

"She's documented several instances where she's turned Stane in to state police," she informed him. "Most of the weapons are Stark guns and armor plating, but this invoice concerns Jericho missile platforms."

"So why not bring it to me?" Stark asked her.

"I was afraid after your captivity and subsequent shutting down of weapons manufacturing that you were suffering from PTSD and didn't want to disturb you more," Elsa lied to him.

Tony frowned at that, then turned back to his screen. "Well, that's an eloquent point that you were at least attentive," he said as he turned back to face her. "So what should we do with you? I already have a personal assistant in Pepper."

"I'm just an assistant, I don't say I'm the best," she replied. "There are always more executives that will need experienced assistants."

"True in maybe a year," Tony said, leaning back to face her again. "For right now, we're consolidating a few unneeded positions. Downsizing, as it were."

"So, if there's no reason to fire me," Elsa started to say when Tony pulled up a different file.

"I wouldn't say 'no reason,'" Tony started, then flipped the screen around. "I'm just wondering why it took you almost a year to finally figure out Stane was selling my guns on the black market."

"I organized his calendar and schedule, not oversaw the billing and shipping department," Elsa said, defending herself. "And before you say anything about his phone calls, he had a private line that I had no control over."

"Jarvis?" Tony asked his AI as he looked back at the screen.

"It is true, sir," the AI said over a speaker. "I have determined that all of Stane's contacts with the Ten Rings were done through private and secretive accounts. Miss Winters had no idea of these contacts."

"Thank you, Jarvis," Elsa said to the AI.

"You are quite welcome, Miss Winters," Jarvis told her, startling her that the AI would acknowledge her comment.

"Okay, so we resolved you don't know anything about his criminal activity, and when you became aware of said activity, you reported it to the police. Is there anything she actually did wrong?"

"Technically, Miss Winters hasn't broken any laws, nor is she subject to Stark Industries termination clause," Jarvis told him.

Elsa smiled at that. It seemed to her that she would be allowed to keep her place within Stark Industries, and not have to seek another assignment within SHIELD. She watched as Tony rubbed his forehead with a hand as he thought it over, finally groaning as he picked up his glass of whiskey.

"Fine," he said, downing the contents of the glass. "Put her back in the pool, she'll probably get laid off by the end of the year."

"Thank you, sir," Elsa said and turned to leave though Pepper followed her out. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"You handled Tony quite well, actually," Pepper told her. "Usually only I can keep him from making rash decisions."

"He's like most children, actually," Elsa said, thinking about all the children she'd seen and been around in her time. "But mostly, it's because I haven't done anything wrong. Do you think if Mister Stark tried to hide something illegal or dangerous from you he could accomplish it?"

"He did for a while," she admitted. "He built the Mark two and three armors without me knowing anything about it until after he had went back and destroyed the weapons the Ten Rings already had."

"So you know where I'm coming from," Elsa stated as she turned to leave. "If there's nothing else, Miss Potts?"

"No, that'll do it," she said, as she checked her PDA. "You were the last interview for the day, so now I have to corral Tony into a few press conferences. Get a hold of personnel as soon as you've cleared out your office, alright?"

"Keep him safe, Pepper," Elsa told her as Pepper reached for the door. "I'm not itching for your job, but if you find yourself needing a hand with anything..."

"I'll give you a call," Pepper said, smiling as she disappeared through the door.

Elsa waited, then turned and headed for the personnel office. She had already cleaned out her office in preparation for losing her job. She just needed to find a way back into Tony's good graces so she could finish her mission: monitoring him.

'Damn,' she thought. 'Now I'm even thinking like a spy.'

Chapter 4

November 6th 2010

Elsa walked down the sidewalk as she searched for a certain bookstore. She had her SHIELD ID card on her, but was instructed on how to get through from a letter that had been delivered to her apartment. She found the bookstore, entered and headed for a back panel of books. She turned the corner, entering the reference section and found the turn of the century encyclopedias. She had the momentary thought that they were a waste of paper as more people turned to digital technology.

She pulled the 'Z' volume, rotating it out and letting it clink. The bookcase rotated in, and she stepped through into a completely different world than the leather and paper tomes housed on their wooden shelves. The hallway she found herself in was of concrete and steel, and the information was housed in silicon and copper.

She felt her near two hundred years of age then, as the bookshelf slid back into place to reveal a red headed woman in a skin tight leather outfit with a pair of stainless steel pistols on her hips. Elsa felt conspicuous in her dark green business suit, but the redhead was smiling.

"Agent Elsa, I take it?" she said, cocking her hip as she stood with crossed arms. "I'm Agent Natasha Romanoff. It's funny, your profile only lists your first name and everything else is rated classified, director's eyes only."

"That's probably because I'm the only one who knows my full history," she responded, knowing the female agent was fishing for information. "Director Fury has made a game out of trying to guess it every December twenty-third. You're welcome to try."

""How many years has he been trying?

"Almost ten years, come this December," Elsa said smiling. She knew the agent was fishing for her past, but decided to play nice. Weren't they supposed to be on the same team now? "He can track me as far back as the early sixties, back to when I was a crop duster who was just starting her career. I got on SHIELD's radar, so to speak, in the eighties when I crashed my P-51 after attempting to push the speed envelope past its terminal."

"Rough, and you survived?"

Elsa nodded. "With a broken wrist. This young, spunky SHIELD agent wanted to know more about the pilot mechanic that built a P-51 to push it's terminal velocity without diving, so he did a basic search. Found she was listed as Fiona Harding, and that she died at the age of seven. So he investigated, traced me all the way back into the sixties. Then they sent Fury after me."

"And he didn't bring you in?"

"He concluded that I wasn't a threat to national security, and allowed me to walk, but he kept tabs on me. Began meeting me for my birthday after he became Director, said he was having me followed and he noticed I always ate alone at a nice restaurant on this one specific day a year and wanted to know why."

"Birthday?" Natasha asked and Elsa nodded.

"December twenty-third," Elsa said, leaning against the wall. "Or close enough, by the way."

"You don't remember your own birthday? Or is no one really sure?"

"It was never kept up with," Elsa said, smiling a bit at the memory of her mother. "Mother always said I was born a few days before Christmas."

"Whatever works, I guess," Natasha said, smiling. "Well, I guess Fury told you that you're up for your firearm evaluation. Got everything set up for you in the shooting range."

"What type of firearm do we use?"

"Whatever gets the job done. Our standard issue is a Glock 17, but there's no real requirement for your weapon, only that you be proficient with it," Natasha explained as she led the blonde through the base. "A friend of mine prefers bow and arrow, and he's quite deadly with it."

"Bow and arrow? That's archaic," Elsa mused as Romanoff led her into a shooting gallery. Along the back wall were a variety of weapons on shelves. Most were modern semi-automatic, judging by the slide types she saw. On one end though, were revolvers, some of them likely original judging by the patina, and in the farthest corner sat a box that was the size of a pistol case. Under that box was a bow with a quiver full of arrows.

Elsa smiled, then opened the box to find it held a flintlock pistol. She pulled out the ancient muzzle loaded weapon and inspected it, finding it in still working condition. She heard Natasha laughing as she searched under the display to find the gunpowder and lead balls. The laughter intensified as she calmly loaded the pistol.

"I think you are the first to ever load that thing," she said, a tear streaming from her eye. "If you think you're ready, put on the provided ear and eye protection and take your shot. It's standard procedure to wear protection when firing firearms."

"Alright," she said, putting on the ear muffs before taking the weapon in hand. "So what's so funny about this gun, anyway? Never seen one loaded before?"

"Never have," Natasha said, still smiling. "Not bad for the first pistol ever made."

"Actually, it's the third," Elsa told her as she settled herself into position.

"Third? What were the first two?"

"The first," Elsa said, lining up her shot before gently squeezing the trigger to miss the dead center by one inch, "was a hand cannon made in China. The successor, is the matchlock, which is like this flintlock except that it used a lit 'match' like a wick and touched off with a trigger pull. This is more the third type, the flintlock, and uses a piece of flint to ignite the gunpowder."

"So, you saw all these be made, huh?"

"Fortunately, not," Elsa said, going to put the gun back in its case. She then picked up a revolver, inspecting it. "I remember the first time I ever saw a gun like this."

"That gun is from the early 1800's, I think," Natasha said.

"It's an 1851 Navy Colt. First time I ever handled one was in the early eighteen-fifties when I bought a thousand. Didn't learn to fire it until almost the next decade, when a man named Duke Hudkins taught me how to use his," she said, putting the gun back. "After that, I kept up with guns a bit," she said, picking up a different revolver. "This one is a Colt Peacemaker."

"The gun that won the west," Natasha said, watching as Elsa inspected it with a smile on her lips.

"Technically, it was only the most popular," she corrected the red headed agent. "There were almost a hundred different styles and barrel lengths to choose from. Gunsmiths would often alter existing frames with shorter barrels to draw a gun faster, or attach longer barrels for better accuracy."

"So, you saw one of those fast draw shootouts in your time?"

"That's a Hollywood myth," Elsa said, placing the gun back on the shelf. "The most realistic shootout in a movie I've ever seen was in Kevin Costner's Wyatt Earp. It happens pretty early in the movie, these two guys walk out of a saloon and they are shouting at each other. One goes for his gun, shooting the other as he pulls and shoots back. They both are hit and fall, and people crowd around them and keep them from shooting anymore."

"Sounds brutal," Natasha said as Elsa picked up a semi-automatic pistol.

"It was called the Wild West for a reason," Elsa reminded her as she inspected the weapon. "This one is semi-automatic right? Just pull the trigger?"

"Yeah," she said moving closer. "Colt 1911, pretty reliable in a firefight."

"Which one is the Glock 17?" Elsa asked, putting the trademark Colt back on the shelf. Natasha led her down the shelves and handed her a pistol with a black finish. Elsa inspected the pistol, while Natasha loaded the clip with small bullets.

"Just insert the clip and step to the line when you're ready," she said, and Elsa nodded. The pistol bucked in her hand, and she it wasn't as bad as the Navy Colt she was familiar with. After the last shot was fired, Natasha pulled the target sheet and inspected it.

"Not bad. Not good enough to pass, but it's not by much."

"I'm about a hundred years out of practice," she admitted as she looked at the target.

"Only a hundred?"

"Well, the West settled down, law and order spread and we didn't have to carry a gun everywhere we went. We felt safe."

"And now?"

"I need something with less kick, but still accurate. Any ideas?"

-o-0-o-

In the end, Elsa chose a Sig Sauer 226 X-Five that a nickle plated finish. It's 9mm rounds didn't buck as hard as she shot and the pistol had a built-in laser sight just under the barrel. Pluses all around for her, and it's fifteen round magazine ensured she didn't run out of ammo if she got cornered. She found she was accurate enough to qualify, after putting almost a full box of ammo through it, and even the agent she was with was impressed with her.

"So, what's next?" Elsa asked as she reloaded the pistol after being told she passed her firearm evaluation.

"Well, since you're supposed to become a proper agent," Natasha said as she watched Elsa safety the weapon, "Is to teach how we agents check in, then start your tactical training."

"Tactical training? In a business suit?"

"Well, why you're here for training, we'll have you outfitted in a proper outfit. You can take it home with you, if you want."

"Like yours," Elsa asked as she holstered her weapon. It felt heavy on her hip, and she silently began to wonder why she was letting herself join SHIELD. She'd had enough of the death and killing when she was just trying to defend her ranch from young braves. Maybe she should have stayed in the city where it was safe.

"Yes, it's a basic uniform," Natasha said as she thought about it. She'd been wearing hers so long it was like second skin. "It's somewhat bulletproof against the lighter calibers, but a solid hit from a .45 is going to pierce. A .38 though, you'll have a good bruise but that's it."

"I guess we need to head to supply and get me outfitted," Elsa said as she joined Natasha at the entrance and they headed out into the hall.

"You'll also need your earpiece, equipment belt, spare clips," she listed off and Elsa groaned.

"Why not just issue me a license to kill," Elsa stated as her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"We did that at the diner," Natasha said, entering a door that was marked quartermaster.

Inside, Elsa was sized for her new suit and given a proper gun belt for her Sig. Natasha showed her how to work her earpiece, and put that in her ear. The supply sergeant kept pulling items from various bins, some of it Elsa could only guess at. She ended up with six extra pouches on her belt, with at least one set of cuffs, two cans of what she thought were mace, a card holder, some sort of electronic device that Natasha said would get her past most door locks, and a taser.

"SHIELD equips its agents to go anywhere, huh?" Elsa asked, already feeling the extra weight on her hips from looking at all the equipment as she started to situate the leather pouches.

"Plan for anything, and nothing will stop you," Natasha said as she helped Elsa situate the gear so she could better access it. "Best thing to do is practice where you can, run scenarios in your apartment in your down time to practice, and for safety's sake, remove the magazine before you practice clearing a room."

"Seen your fair share of bullet holes in the walls?" Elsa asked, as Natasha held a can of something in her hand.

"That, and nine mils can pierce walls," she said as she held the small metal object to her. "That's a collapsible baton. Don't worry about holding back with it, go ahead and give them a solid whack if you need to a blunt weapon for something."

"Baton? When did they start making them this small?" Elsa asked as she found the release and the four inch metal canister popped into a foot and a half rod.

"About ten years ago," Natasha said, as Elsa experimented with it. "It's a lot more compact this way, and just as solid."

Elsa collapsed the baton, then slid it into its pouch. With a glance at her suit, she looked around the room for a place to change. "Is there a changing room?"

"No, but we do have temporary quarters for you to use," Natasha said as Elsa collected three changes of her new uniform and the items that went with it. The whole collection was cumbersome for the former monarch, but she followed Natasha out of the supply room and through the corridors where she shown a simple utilitarian room.

She laid her recently acquired items on the sparse bed and looked around. Natasha stayed in the door though, and leaned against the frame. "When you're done changing, you can find me in the mess hall. Just turn right outside your door and left at the T junction. Can't miss it."

Elsa nodded her understanding, and Natasha closed the door as she walked away. Inside the room, Elsa changed into her new uniform. She had never been a big supporter of women wearing pants, always wearing dresses herself, or skirts. The skin tight leather was supple, clinging to her every curve like a second skin. She stood, looking at herself in the mirror and feeling very scandalous. The pants were so form fitting that she felt nude.

She then put the heavy soled boots on the floor, sliding her feet in and belting them them tight. They were heavy, and trying to walk in them was difficult. She put the jacket on, the skin tight leather feeling weird as she settled into it and zipped it all the way up. She stretched, the entire leather outfit feeling like a thick skin.

With a sigh, she picked up the belt, pulling it around her small waist and belted it tight. She changed her Sig to the new holster, feeling odd with a gun and live rounds on her hip. She hadn't even carried a gun on her when she was hundreds of miles deep in the Wilderness. Going through her purse, she pulled her SHIELD ID badge and put it in the leather holder.

Looking in the mirror, she felt odd, like a character in a play and not a real person. Anna would laugh at the oddness of her new look, and that was all Elsa could hold on to as she left her temporary room to find Agent Romanoff. Going down the hall, she passed a few other agents, most of them nodding politely as she passed.

With all the guns, she felt more like a soldier than she wanted to feel, a feeling that intensified as she entered the mess and the scores of men and women sitting around carrying guns. 'This isn't a spy agency, it's a military force,' she thought to herself as she found Natasha talking to a brown haired man with a sleeveless jacket that showed off his well muscled arms.

As she got closer, Natasha looked up and smiled at her which caused the agent she was with to turn around and look at her. "Clint, this is Agent Elsa. Elsa, this is your current handler, Agent Clint Barton."

"Barton," Elsa said, taking a seat at the table. "So you're the one who's been keeping an eye on me?"

"Yep," he said as he eyed her costume. Elsa squirmed at his intense gaze, but he smiled and extended a hand. "You look different in pants."

"Thank you," she said, blushing enough to match Natasha's hair. "Not used to wearing skin-tight leather, and I usually only wear pants when I fly."

"Really?" Barton said, quirking an eye and smiling at her. "What's your favorite plane to fly?"

"My favorite is my Albatross, call it Snowflake," Elsa told the male agent.

"Nose art?"

"A snowflake," she said, smiling at the memory of finding it on her beloved plane. "Found it on my plane one morning after returning from Bermuda. My co-pilot crapped out on me, food poisoning and the hurricane we were skirting turned north and ran up the coast to hit New York where we were headed."

"Sounds like a blast," Barton said, as his eyes grew serious. "Why didn't they fly commercial?"

"This was back in 1971, commercial flights to Bermuda would come later. All flights back then were private taxi, and they had a medical emergency that needed to get stateside. No other pilot would risk that hurricane turning north and I agreed to make the run for land."

"They survive?" Barton asked her, eyes still vacant as he imagined it in his head.

"Yeah, brought my plane down in hundred plus winds," she told him, and he smiled as he finally understood why she had been respected enough to get honored with nose art on her plane. "She survived the trip, and I got a shiny white snowflake on my plane."

"You still got it? The plane I mean," Barton asked her, a smile on his face.

"It's currently in storage in Burbank until I need it."

"I would love to take that up sometime," Barton said, leaning back and smiling. "The quinjets we use just don't have the same feeling of an old plane."

"Quinjets?" Elsa asked, and Clint leaned in close.

"Small transports we use with flight capabilities like a Harrier," he said in a low voice. "They aren't heavy on armor, but possess superior stealth technology than anything the military has their hands on. If you want, I can get you a few technical manuals if you want to qualify to fly one. They're tricky on handling, but they can get you in and out of almost any situation."

"Please do," she said, as she thought about how a ship like that would like. "I'm stuck here for the millennium, so why not." She didn't want to sound miserable, but it wasn't like she had any options.

"Stuck here? Why?" Natasha asked her, sounding curious about her situation.

"I need the identities," she admitted.

"You're on one of those super soldier serums? Slowed your aging?" Natasha asked her, and Elsa shook her head.

"How or why is a mystery. I'm not certain why, but I predate all super soldier serums," Elsa said, then harrumphed. "I'm even older than the legend himself, Captain America."

"Don't let Coulson here you say that," Barton said, smiling. "He's got a little thing for the late legend."

"He's got all the collector cards in mint condition," Natasha said, chuckling a bit at the older agent's expense.

"Well, you're among friends here," Barton told her. "Pass your firearm eval?"

"She's good with that Sig," Natasha said. "Passed with flying colors."

"Taking her to the obstacle course?"

"Yeah," Natasha said, smiling. "Care to join us?"

"Certainly," he said, smiling at Elsa. "Let me get my bow from the armory."


	17. Stargate Frozen Chap 01

Set during Season 7 Between episodes 19 and 20

 _Italics is when the host is thinking/talking._

 **Bold is when the Goa'uld thinking/talking.**

 _ **Italics, bold and underline is a goa'uld speaking in that special double voice of theirs.**_

Chapter 1 – Alien Planet – P4X-199

Doctor Daniel Jackson squats behind a pillar, watching one of the paths they expect their target to take on her way to the Stargate. He looks to his left where Major Samantha 'Sam' Carter also waits, a heavy caliber assault rifle in her hands. They nod, neither one speaking as they wait, both of them hoping that Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c return from earth with the reinforcements before she arrives.

As he looks back down the path, his ears pick up the faint sound of Jaffa marching. 'Shit' he thought as he feels his heart begin racing. He glanced back to Major Carter, watching as she readies herself behind a similar pillar. He lifts his Beretta, thumbing the safety off as he prepares himself to fire. 'Why couldn't she have waited until they had backup?'

It was Carter who opened fire first, her large slugs ripping through their steel armor and felling two of the Jaffa. Jackson saw their target bolt into the shrubs before he could line up his shot, but not before a Jaffa had lined up his staff weapon on him. He ducked behind the column as the plasma bolt landed where his head had been, then darted to the other side, firing into the Jaffa with accuracy born from hours on the range with Colonel O'Neill as Carter reloaded her rifle.

Once she had her rifle reloaded, Jackson ducked back into cover as he reloaded his gun only to come face to face with their target. Standing several inches shorter than him and being so petite as to be called unhealthy, it was hard for him to believe she punched just short of a Mack truck. She did though, easily knocking him to the ground where she stood over him as a victor does a conquered foe, her hand device charged.

He got his first good look at her then. She was very petite, maybe a hundred pounds and didn't seem to be fully grown yet. Her long raven hair fell in waves down her back and framed her small heart shaped face with it's creamy white skin and cherry colored lips. Her outfit consisted of deep purple and gold beads, in a barely there style, reminiscent of an Arabic bedlah, or belly dancer's outfit, except it didn't have the long flowing panels of satin down her legs, just lots of beads and the ruby Jaffa converter device on the belt.

" _ **Lower your weapon, Major Carter, or he dies,**_ " she ordered to the blonde soldier. Carter stopped firing, as she glanced back to her fallen comrade, her face a war of emotions. She eventually lowered her assault rifle, placing it on the ground before backing away. Two of the surviving Jaffa came over and relieved her of her sidearm and gear, while a third kept his staff weapon trained on her.

" _ **A wise decision, Major Carter**_ ," she said as she lowered her hand ribbon device. " _ **Now, how did you find me**_?"

"A Tok'ra informed of us your location and asked us to intercept you," she said, referring to her father General Jacob Carter.

" _ **The Tok'ra? And what would they have done with me?**_ " she asked as her voice rose in pitch. Sam knew that she was skating on thin ice, but she needed to stall until Colonel O'Neill showed up. Should be any minute.

"They've recently acquired a new technology that will allow them to transfer a Goa'uld's consciousness between symbiotes. They were going to transfer a Tok'ra into your real form and use it to repopulate the resistance."

" _ **Such foolery**_ _ **,**_ " she said as she came closer. " _ **They meddle in things they do not understand. Do they think a queen such as I is so easily captured? That I do not have troops of my own to command? Did they even think of whom will carry my children as they mature into gods?**_ "

"Actually, we did," she said smiling. "They were going to use the Jaffa to incubate the young. They weren't going to let everything you built go to waste."

" _ **So they were going to steal the empire I have built for myself under Lord Ba'al**_?" she asked the older looking blonde as she pulled the GDO they used to unseal the iris on Earth's Stargate. " _ **I should kill you for such insolence.**_ "

"Yeah, well," Carter said, smiling as she looked back at the gate as the chevrons began to light up. 'Right on time,' she thought silently before deciding to mock the Goa'uld to keep her attention from the gate as it was dialed in. "I'm just the distraction. The army is due to arrive in a moment, so I'll ask you to surrender now."

" _ **Take them to my ship, and seal the cargo hold!**_ " the Goa'uld queen commanded as O'Neill led SG teams two and three through the gate. She waved her hand over a teal colored gem on the back of her hand device and a long cylindrical ship that had previously been cloaked at the edge of the clearing shimmered into view.

=o=0=o=

O'Neill watch watched as Carter and Jackson were forced at staff point onto the ship by one lone Jaffa. He knew Carter and Jackson were hopelessly outmatched by even on Jaffa, as they were stronger and more powerful than the average human, plus faster. The other two took up defensive positions, along with the Goa'uld they were after. She activated her personal shield, as Teams two and three took up their own positions around the Stargate.

"Major, open fire," O'Neill said as he shouldered his own P90 and opened fire on them. The two Jaffa fell quickly as the ten men emptied their magazines into them, their staff weapons never even leveled. The Goa'uld leveled her hand device, firing a charge that knocked two men off their feet even as they fired.

His men fanned out, trying to find a weakness they could exploit. He already knew the weakness in the Goa'uld's shield technology, as it was as simple as throwing a knife. The shield only stopped fast moving objects, but slower objects such as knives and arrows were capable of piercing it with no problem.

Now if he could just get that close.

He saw the last remaining Jaffa step out of the ship, firing his weapon as he marched forward. The members of SG Two brought him down before he managed to kill anyone. With the last of her Jaffa down, O'Neill watched as she backed into the ship, sealing the door behind her.

"Corporal Erickson! Fire on that thing, will ya!" O'Neill ordered the man with the grenade launcher. The corporal transitioned to the proper weapon, firing into the ship with no apparent effect. He was helpless as the Stargate began to dial out, the ship lifting into the air with two of his team aboard and disappeared into the event horizon. As soon as the ship was through, the Stargate disconnected.

Roaring, he turned to his fellow men and began to command them to round everything up. He had some explaining to do to General Hammond.

=o=0=o=

Sitting in the cargo hold, Doctor Jackson stood while Major Carter as they listened to the sound of weapons fire hitting the hull. She knelt by the door, and started to fiddle with the panel that the Jaffa shot. When the ship powered up, it was soon followed by them passing through the Stargate's event horizon.

"Great," Jackson said as he leaned up against the wall. "Now who knows where we are?"

"You know Jack won't stop looking for us," Sam said as she kept trying to open the door. "He saw us get taken captive, and he and Teal'c will come for us even if General Hammond won't authorize the mission."

"That's not what worries me," she said as she gave a disgruntled sigh. "What worries me is what she's doing with all of this naquadah."

"Is that what this is?" Jackson as he looked around at all the metal bars that looked like aluminum.

"Yeah," she said as she pulled a crystal from the ruined panel and looked at the cargo. "She's got enough here to build several power cores for Ha'tak pyramid ships. It's the start of her own military, especially considering she can create as many Jaffa as she wants."

"You're father was right," Jackson said as he took it all in. "She's going to upset the power balance, try to become the next Ra."

"Which was why we were ordered to capture her if possible, kill her if necessary," Carter said as a spark of power out of the control panel knocked her back into Daniel and burned her hand. "I don't think I'm going to get anywhere with that."

She was just about to stand up when the door to the cockpit opened to reveal their Goa'uld captor. She had the GDO device in her hand, as she stood there, a sneer on her angelic looking face. Daniel was able to see past her to the world beyond, seeing the forest beyond and not recognizing any of the landmarks. 'At least there isn't any fortress here,' he thought as he brought his attention back to the woman in front of him.

" _ **What is the proper code to your base's Iris?**_ " she demanded, tossing the device to Daniel. " _ **You will input the code into that device or I will kill Major Carter**_."

"And why would you want to go to Earth?" he asked her, as he cradled the GDO in his arms from catching it.

" _ **I am going to take away your Chappa'ai, and leave your people stranded on your miserable planet,**_ " she told him as she flexed her hand device. " _ **It is all I am allowed to do since any action more than that will attract the attention of the Asgard**_."

"And they will wipe the galaxy with you," he said smiling as he shifted the GDO to his hand. A thought occurred to him, and with a smile on his face, he entered the code into the device. "I hope you enjoy your trip to Earth. If I may, try Tehran. With that outfit they'll love you."

" _ **Your travel advice is not wanted**_ ," she said as she took the device and slipped back out the cargo hold. " _ **Though if you want, I may keep you around to become a host for one of my children**_."

"Pass," he said, not even wanting to think of the terrible price he'd pay as a host to a Goa'uld. The loss of will alone gave him nightmares. "I rather like being the only one in my head."

" _ **As you wish**_ ," she said, and closed the door between them. Jackson and Carter soon felt the ship change it's orientation, then they traveled through the gate again. This time they were jarred hard as they emerged, and Jackson's face briefly lit up in joy that his ruse had worked and she was now trapped at Stargate Command. However, when the doors opened, the view beyond the ship was one of an ice wall, not the control center of the SGC.

" _ **I thought your base was a military fortress, not a frozen wasteland**_ ," she said as she reentered the cargo hold.

"Ah, no," Carter groaned as she put her head in her hands.

" _ **Speak, slave**_ ," the Goa'uld commanded, staring hard at Carter.

Carter lifted her head and leaned back against the naquadah. "It means we've gated into the past, and I'm going to go out on a limb that it's more than a hundred years since before the Stargate at Giza was uncovered."

"So the matter stream jumped to the available gate, the one in Antartica?" Daniel asked to clarify what he knew of Stargate physics.

" _ **I did not know the Chappa'ai had such capability, or that the Tau'ri had two different portals to use**_ ," the Goa'uld said as she watched them.

"We didn't either until the Stargate's matter stream jumped during one of our missions," Daniel explained to her. "Luckily for us, that means we would have had a backup once you stole ours, and we wouldn't have to wait for the Asgard to come check on us."

" _ **So exactly when are we in your planet's pas**_ t?" she asked, almost gritting her teeth at the thought. Daniel knew why. Up until seven years ago the most powerful Goa'uld was Ra, and he ruled the other Goa'uld System Lords with an iron fist as he was easily the most powerful person in the galaxy. Being under his thumb would easily destroy any plans she had about conquering the galaxy, but she could still destroy the timeline by subjugating a primitive version of Earth.

"Hard to say without knowing exactly when we passed the solar flare in the matter stream," Carter said as she mulled it over. At least one hundred years, could be as much as a millennium."

The Goa'uld growled as she turned and left them, sealing the door behind her. Carter stood from where she had been nursing her injured hand as the sound of weapons fire filled the cargo bay.

"Do you think she can blast her way past all the ice?" Daniel asked Carter as she moved towards the rear of the ship.

"Within moments, Daniel," she said as she pulled a panel open to reveal rows of multicolored crystals in various racks. "When she does, she's likely to head for some sort of civilization and start taking over."

"That was my thought," Daniel said as he watched her inspect the crystals, removing some of them as she did. Soon, they felt the ship lift into the air as it sped towards an unfamiliar destination. "I doubt the people of a hundred years ago could repel any sort of Goa'uld army. For one, machine guns and armor piercing bullets didn't come around till after the Stargate was uncovered."

"For that matter, what if we're back in the Dark Ages?" Samantha asked as she pulled several crystals in quick succession. "Back when superstition ruled. Any person showing her level of advancement would really appear as a god, which she would feed from and become even more powerful."

"So what are we doing?" Daniel asked as she pulled another and shifted the rack back into place.

"I just removed all the ship's navigational and shield controls and set the engines to overload. Whatever course she put us on, we're stuck on and if we're head into space, the ship will burn up on re-entry."

"So, how do we get out?" Daniel asked as Carted stuck some of the crystals she had taken from the engine into the door control.

"Well, I think I can MacGyver this door open, and there was an escape pod in the corner just opposite this panel," Carter said as she slipped another crystal into the alcove. "We just jettison ourselves and hope we're not over the ocean when we do so."

"And you're hoping that we land somewhere where in the hundreds of dialects and languages on Earth where I speak one?"

"Pretty much," she said as she inserted one last crystal. "Unless we're too far back, English should be pretty standard, as well as Spanish. That's one I can speak somewhat," she said as the door slid open. The Goa'uld sat to the helm controls, as warning lights and sirens began to blare their warnings. She was so engrossed in keeping control of the ship that she didn't notice them until they were squeezing into the escape tube.

" _ **I will flay you for this**_ ," she spat, as Daniel hit the control to close the doors on him and Sam.

"I doubt you'll survive the crash of the ship he said, noticing the curvature of the Earth. The escape pod doors closed on them, closing out the howl of rage she let out and they plummeted back to Earth.

=o=0=o=

Elsa stood on the balcony of her ice castle, watching her first sun rise as a free woman. She was happy, probably the first time she had ever been happy in her entire life. No more did she have to fear harming another with her power. No more did she have to control her emotions and appear as a 'blank slate' at all hours of the day and night. Anna would never be hurt by her again.

She hunched over herself at the thought of Anna. Her sister wouldn't understand why she had run away from her coronation party. Wouldn't know that for as long as she'd been alive she had had this eerie ability to control ice and snow. She didn't even feel cold, and was able to go barefoot even when the snow covered the ground.

So now, here she was, at the peak of North Mountain surrounded by snow capped peaks watching the sun rise. She silently hoped that Anna made a good queen when she came of age. Her sister was a more outgoing personality than her own inward demeanor, and she had silently watched her sister adopt and abandon almost every possible hobby possible in the past thirteen years they had been shut inside the castle.

Still, she was a princess and had been trained in etiquette by their mother and Kai could help her with her royal duties until she acquired the knack for it. The former regent would also be able to help her draft a proper proclamation and would likely follow her wish to keep Prince Hans separated as much as possible from Anna.

A clap like thunder rolled over her icy castle. Elsa looked around to see a ball of fire fall from the heavens above falling towards her castle. She had a brief moment of fear that the fiery ball would hit her castle, before it got close enough and she could see it was going to miss her by the barest of degrees.

The ball plowed into the snow at the foot of her castle, sending up a geyser of snow and ice as it dug a deep furrow up the stony peak before rolling back down the hill. When she could see it again, she realized it was a large, metal tube that was still burning, an odd thing to see at all much less fall from the heavens. She watched it in fascination, before a piece of the tube lifted away to reveal a metal door. A woman stumbled out, covered in blood and falling face first in the snow.

Elsa ran through her castle to the front door, quickly finding the woman where she had fallen as the metallic tube she had left began to slide over the nearby ledge. Elsa turned the woman over, finding it to be a raven haired woman in some kind of Arabic exotic garb she was mostly unfamiliar with, recognizing it mostly from bawdy paintings and descriptions she had read in the castle library. The barely there attire looked untouched, but a stream of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.

She mouthed something Elsa couldn't hear, so Elsa bent low to better hear her when one of the woman's hands grabbed the back of her head and forced their lips to meet. Something wet and slimy entered her mouth and she jumped back, the woman's hand going slack as it pierced the back of Elsa's throat and she scrambled away, her mouth filling with blood and bile.

Elsa felt something alien in her mind, as she spit out the blood and bile. Then it struck her. ' _I didn't spit_ ,' she thought at seeing the red and green on the snow beneath her. She began to pick herself up, or at least her body picked itself up. Once she was upright, her body held its hands up and inspected them, rubbing them as if seeing them for the first time.

When she looked down at the raven haired woman, a name leaped into her mind along with images and memories of the woman's life. Malie, her name was, or is as she watched the woman squirm from the pain of the crash. It meant pleasing in her native tongue. Her body knelt by the woman, and began to remove a golden glove from the woman's left hand. It's name suddenly sprang to mind, a kara kesh, and was used to torture or kill people though the use of electrical shocks and knock them back with a wave of kinetic force. It was powered by naquadah that was being introduced by a Goa'uld that had invaded her body.

A series of images began flooding her mind, of differing advanced technologies, ships, weapons, faces of gods and demons, worlds so distant the light leaving it's star today wouldn't be seen for hundreds of years on Earth. The images came with words and ideas, flooding her with knowledge of their use and importance. She mentally groaned under the mental strain as her body continued to act of its own accord.

The kara kesh was fitted to her left hand without any problems and her hands continued to undress the woman. ' _Stop it_ ,' she commanded her body as she struggled to stop her hands from removing the woman's clothing. Her hands never stopped though, but a roaring voice in her head did respond.

' **Why should I? I need these items to prove to the primitive people of your planet that I am a god**.'

' _You are a demon and I will resist you_ ,' she mentally shouted at her infectious captor, but it just laughed at her.

' **Pathetic** ,' it said as it removed the last items of clothing, her sandals, from Malie's body. The poor girl was freezing as she lay in the snow, her skin already covered in goose pimples. She looked around, noticing for the first time that her ship had slipped off the ledge. Looking back at the now nude body as she lay freezing in the snow.

Placing her hand on Malie's forehead, she built a charge through the naquadah in her blood stream, releasing it as a series of shocks that caused the poor woman's brain to fry and stop functioning so it killed her. Elsa was shocked her possessor would do such a calloused act and hated her all that much more for it.

' _Why did you kill her_?' she demanded to know, even as more knowledge of her possessor's anatomy flooded her brain giving her an in depth reason as to what was already happening to the former host.

' **Because she was dying** ,' the snakelike possessor that was now firmly wrapped around her spine said. ' **And because she could spill my secrets for as long as she lived.** ' Elsa watched as her possessor picked up the clothes Malie had been wearing and carried them into the castle leaving the poor former host to become a frozen and forgotten corpse.

Inside the castle, she walked to the upstairs room she was going to use for a bedroom and laid her new attire out on the snowy bed. Her hands removed her coronation gown, setting it on the bed. Her hands didn't stop removing her clothes until she was standing on the icy floor in nothing but her skin. Her possessor lifted the beaded belt and she stepped into and fitted it over her bare hips. The sandals fit after a fashion when the cords that tied it to her bare leg were tied to her skin, though the material that made up the bottom of the sandal was a bit smaller than her foot.

She then slipped both arms into the bustier, then lifting it over her head slipped it down onto her chest. Unfortunately, Elsa's body was more mature than the previous host so her bosom flowed out of the top of the garment a bit, and was also a bit more difficult to breath in than the previous memories of the young host remembered it being. The last piece was the ornate golden pearls in a choker around her neck that was just right on its fit.

Standing there in her new outfit, Elsa was mortified that her possessor was going to be seen in public like this as it showed off more skin than it covered up. Her possessor, which she now knew went by the name Selk, didn't care though, and lay herself on the bed while she processed through her memories and finished the 'melding' process, meaning that she would know every part of Elsa's life and would be able to control every part of her new body.

Elsa was forced to wait with her, as she couldn't influence the smallest part of her body anymore. Forced to sit in the virtual silence of her mind, she began to pour over the new memories Selk offered. Her kind were called the Goa'uld, a parasitic race of snakelike beings from a world with many streams and a demon like species called Unas. They were the first race to be subjugated by the Goa'uld, which led to them learning of the Stargate and other advanced technologies that seemed like magic to Elsa, though she knew exactly how science made them work from Selk.

It was this new knowledge that led them to the stars, where they spanned across the galaxy and began conquering the primitive races they found. One Goa'uld found a primitive planet that teemed with life. These new slaves were used to further their own lives as they were infinitely more compatible than the Unas, though weaker.

It was with a start that Elsa realized that they had found Earth. The name of the Goa'uld who had first come to Earth to farm it for slaves was named Ra, the Egyptian god of the sun. He conquered Earth, spreading its people across the stars to be used to mine naquadah and other precious minerals to build ships and weapons, and subjugated most of the other Goa'uld under him.

Everything was fine for the Goa'uld until the people of Earth revolted. Ra was forced to abandon the planet and the people of Earth buried their Chappa'ai. The Goa'uld would still come with ships, harvesting people occasionally throughout the years, but the planet for the most part was considered closed to them, and the Goa'uld faded into the myth of gods of old.

More recently, when the people of Earth reopened their Chappa'ai, they met up with Ra on a planet called Abydos. Ra found the invaders, and the powerful weapon they carried with them that was capable of splitting an atom, and was going to send it back to Earth to destroy both their Chappa'ai and their planet in one fell swoop. Unfortunately, a man named Colonel O'Neill had intercepted the bomb and along with another man named Doctor Jackson, sent the bomb back to Ra's ship as he left Abydos using a set of transport rings just before the bomb blew up.

The death of Ra, the Supreme System Lord, had upset the power balance the Goa'uld had enjoyed for centuries and left a power vacuum no one had managed to fill in the intervening years, though several had tried and failed.

As time passed and she mulled over more of the genetic memory her host was born with, she came upon the memories Selk herself had made. Selk was smuggled out of a monastery that harbored the Prim'ta, the larval young of the Goa'uld when it was realized she was different than the other larval young. She was smuggled out in a power play by a low level Goa'uld under Cronus and was allowed to mature. When she did, she selected Malie to be her host, the girl having been a dancer for her tribe in a tropical environment.

Within Malie, Selk had despised the Goa'uld who thought he held her leash and quickly moved to destroy him. After disposing of her overlord, Selk passed herself as a normal Goa'uld and not the queen she was. She returned to Malie's tribe, harvesting many of the male's for her personal army of Jaffa, human's who carried the larval Goa'uld within to become stronger and faster.

Her new army allowed her to conquer a few smaller overlords, gaining her four planets to add to the one she already had. It gave her a total of twenty seven Al'kesh bombers and hundreds of Death Gliders, but the only Ha'tak she had was old and weak and lacked a working power core. She had been dealing with various overlords, acquiring naquadah to build more power systems for Ha'tak ships than the ancient system she already had.

Other ideas soon entered her mind though as Selk planned her battle strategy for Earth as she lay there on a snow covered bed. First, she would return to Arendelle where she would establish herself as a goddess, using her shields and kara kesh to mimic the actions of a real god. Then, once she got control of the guards, she would find a suitable male candidate for the seed of life so the larval young could better adapt to human hosts. After that, she would transform the royal guards and the Arendelle army into Jaffa, and start to move the naquadah she brought with her in the ship to the palace where she would make staff weapons, the preferred weapon of the Jaffa and a weapon better suited to war.

Selk had also analyzed what she knew of flintlock muskets and pistols, along with the carronade and cannons of the day. Goa'uld staff weapons were far superior to anything they currently had on the planet, and could be fired every few seconds for as long as they wanted. That would allow even a small army like Arendelle's, which consisted of a few hundred, to conquer even larger armies like England's or even America's. Larger versions of those same staff weapons could also be mounted on ships and were capable of blasting through wooden hulls with ease, meaning even the smallest sloop could outgun England's most powerful warship.

Selk would walk Arendelle's army all over the known world, taking the conquered armies and turning them into Jaffa as well. Since their continued health would depend on her, it would keep everyone loyal as without more larval young as the ones they were incubating matured and left to find hosts they would die. Elsa cowered at the thought of what Selk would unleash on her planet, but the last two thought Selk had chilled her to her very core. Selk would eventually build a sarcophagus which was a healing chamber that would keep her young and healthy for the next five thousand years.

It meant that there was no way she could escape. Selk would possess her body long past any empire on Earth had ever lasted. Even if Selk were to ever leave, her own immune system was shutting down and would cease to function within the day, only the fact that Selk herself would regulate and repair her body until the sarcophagus would be built would keep her alive. She was trapped in her own mind with no possible way to escape.

She was truly in hell.

But her last thought, as Selk herself went over the host's memory and uncovered Elsa's power over ice and snow, she was truly amazed.

' **You are a hok'tar**?' she asked in an astonished voice. Elsa mentally cringed as more memories flooded from Selk explaining what a hok'tar, or advanced human, was. Apparently her kind was so rare, that in the thousands of years the Goa'uld had roamed the galaxy, hok'tars were a myth that had never been confirmed.

Until now.

' **Ra himself would not survive an encounter with me** ,' Selk crooned as she poured over every memory Elsa had of her using her power, some of them from before Elsa herself could even properly remember. She could sense the plans that Selk were making shift, as she decided how best to use her icy powers to conquer her fellow Goa'uld.

There was no stopping her. None at all. She couldn't even blink her eyes to shed away the tears.

Chapter 2

July 02, 1838 – North Mountain, Arendelle – Earth

Daniel's POV

High up on a snowy ridge, the escape pod that Major Carter and Doctor Jackson had used to escape Selk, crashed to earth amid a snowy plume hidden only by the towering pine. Forcing the metal door open, Doctor Jackson was the first to crawl from the metal capsule into the snow covered forest, followed closely by Major Carter. Both zippered their olive jackets to their necks before removing the patches that signified rank, national origin and affiliation with the SGC. It was standard protocol for SG teams when in a position that they might be captured, and neither wanted to risk contaminating the timeline.

The real problem Daniel knew, was how far back in time were they? Early 1900's? The Dark Ages? For that matter, where on Earth were they? They could still be in Africa, he figured, but as he looked at the trees through his foggy glasses, he began to think that they might be further north. Maybe Europe. Or Russia.

"Do you recognize the trees?" Daniel asked Sam, as he tried to heat his glasses with his breath, looking at the blurry trees with his bare eyes.

"Pine, maybe. Or fir," she said as she looked around their surroundings. "Definitely middle of winter."

"Feels like it's forty below out here," Daniel said as his teeth began to chatter. He put his glasses back in his head and wrapped his arms around his chest, making sure his fingers weren't exposed to the frigid air.

"Definitely cold," she said as she stood by him. "Laws of survival dictate we work our way downhill, hoping we come across a village or town. At least a roadway."

"I'll follow your lead, Sam," Daniel said, deferring judgment to the ranking officer and one person more likely to lead them to safety.

Without any further word, both olive clad scientists began to trudge through the snow. The going was slow even though the snow wasn't that deep. After twenty minutes, and little progress being made, they could at least attest to the heat their bodies were generating as they strained to trudge on.

At about the thirty minute mark, as they leaned up against a tree to rest, a bright splotch of purple became noticeable. As they waited, a figure in gray fur also became noticeable as well as a horned animal which Daniel thought was a reindeer. They came closer, revealing more about them. The one in gray was male, tall, broad shouldered, and very thick with muscle with straw colored hair poking out from under a woolen cap.

The one wearing the purple cloak turned out to be a petite female that was a good six inches shorter than the male with strawberry colored hair that had a white streak running through it. Her attire was also more colorful, with a light blue blouse under a black vest and a darker blue skirt.

Both figures were walking behind the animal which was breaking the path through the snow. When they were only a hundred feet away, the woman raised a mittened hand waving to the Daniel and Samantha as they got closer and called out "Hey there," to them. Or Daniel thought it was 'Hey, there.' Sounded more like 'der.' Same thing if you were speaking Norwegian.

Daniel waited for them to get closer before responding back. "Kan du hjelpe oss? Vi er tapt og kan ikke finne veien til byen."

"Arendelle er pa den maten, naer fjorden," the cloak wearing woman said as she pointed down the tree covered ridge. "Vaer forsiktig med ulver. De er sultne og vil angripe noe."

Daniel looked at the quizzical face of Major Carter before translating as the woman got within twenty feet of them. "She said Arendelle is that way," he said softly, as he pointed down the trail the pair had just come up, "and to be wary of wolves. They're hungry."

"Oh, you speak English," she said with a slight British accent.

"Yes," Daniel said almost automatically. "We're from the United States..."

"Daniel," Carter growled silently to silence him before he could spill anything that might alter the timeline or get them in trouble.

"Oh," the redhead said as her face lit up. "Did President Van Buren send you? If so, I thought you'd attend the coronation by boat."

"Um, we're not here for the coronation," Carter said as she discretely eyed the man as if he might be a threat.

"Well, that was yesterday, anyway," she said brightly.

"No, we're doctors, explorers," Daniel explained to her. "We're out on our own and got a little lost."

"De skjuler noe, din majestet," the man said silently to the woman. She turned to face him, frowning when he added, "Jeg anbefaler a forlate dem her."

"De var nok bare forvirret av min soster forarsaker stormer. Det er min plikt som Prinsessen of Arendelle a hjelpe alle innenfor sine grenser."

The man seemed to deflate and Sam looked lost as she didn't understand Norwegian. "He says we're hiding something and we should be left here. She," Daniel interpreted for her, indicating the woman, "is apparently the Princess of Arendelle, and her sister caused the storms. She also says its her duty to help us."

"Just Anna, please," she said blushing as she turned back to Daniel and Sam. "I'm just the spare. My sister, Elsa, is the queen and the cause of winter in July. This is my guide Kristoff, and his reindeer, Sven."

"I'm Doctor Daniel Jackson," Daniel said as he introduced himself. "This is my colleague..."

"Doctor Samantha Carter," Sam said as she identified herself, purposefully leaving her military rank off.

"You said your sister caused this winter?" Daniel prodded her.

"Yes," she said, sounding a little sheepish. "I asked her to bless my upcoming marriage to Prince Hans of the Southern Isles. She got upset, and," she paused, looking uncertain as if she should continue or not, "Well, I pulled off her glove. I always thought she had a thing about cleanliness, but she walked away, ordering the guests to leave and the gates to be shut again. I couldn't go back to a life alone in the castle.

"So I followed her," she added sounding hurt. "I begged her not to close me back in the castle and she just," she said, her voice shaking, "She said to leave."

"She was going to kick you out?" Carter asked, putting an arm around the princess's shoulders.

"I think so," she said, her body quivering as she silently cried. "What did I ever do to her to be locked up in the castle, though? It's been that way since we were little. I remember we used to play in the snow, and build snowmen, but then one day she moved out to her own room and she would never play with me again."

Carter looked at the now crying princess that she sheltered in her arms, before brushing the hood back from her hair a bit to see the lock of white hair. She paled at seeing it, and hugged the young princess more snugly in her arms.

"I don't think it was because of you," she whispered. Anna looked up at her with wonder and she pressed on. "I've seen hair be turned white like this before," she began to explain when Daniel cleared his throat in warning. She shook her head once, then continued on. "It takes contact with a really cold object though, far colder than can be easily made."

The princess continued to stare at the older woman, finally forming the words, "But why?"

"Do you remember what month your sister moved out?" Carter asked her.

"August," Anna said quickly, then frowned. "That can't be right. It doesn't snow until September."

"Your saying that a sister who has snowed over an entire country, on her own, couldn't make snow enough to make a snowman with you?" Carter asked her as Anna went white as she began to piece it together.

"You think she made the snow when we were kids?" she finally asked and Carter nodded.

"I think she moved to her own room so she wouldn't harm you again," Carter told her. Anna started to move away, wrapping her arms around herself as she did and looked up to the mountain peak looming overhead.

"Din majestet, hva som er galt? Hva er det de sier til deg?" Kristoff asked the princess as she stared up at the peak.

"De forteller meg sannheten om hvorfor min soster last seg unna. Jeg visste aldri at hun saret meg. Jeg kunne ikke huske," she said so softly it was barely heard.

"I'm sorry, your highness," Daniel said, as Anna finally bowed her head, steeling herself to continue on. "I know it's not our place to interfere," he said, pausing when Anna whirled around.

"No, it's not your fault," she said, then looked back to the peak. "But I have to find her, get her to tell me what really happened and end this winter. We know she's at the summit of North Mountain," she told them, finally turning back to the group. "Kristoff said that the storms, up until this morning, rolled off the summit and down the mountain."

"We'll go with you," Carter said as she moved to stand beside Daniel. Anna nodded, then continued on towards the summit. Sven and Kristoff jogged ahead of the princess as she trudged through the deep snow, breaking a path for her and Daniel and Samantha fell in behind.

"Do you think it's possible, Sam," Daniel asked her and Carter looked at him for explanation. "Can a human change the weather like this just because they wanted to?"

"Well, up until we found Nirrti's experiments and Jonas developed the ability to see the future, I'd say no," she told him. "But for it to occur naturally? I'd rather win the Powerball twice in a row with the same numbers."

"It has happened," Daniel pointed out which caused Carter to laugh.

"It is extremely unlikely though," she said as they marched on. "But it _IS_ possible, however unlikely."

"An advanced human," Daniel muttered as he mulled it over. "I wonder if their family has the Ancient gene."

Carter nodded then decided to ask him about Anna. "So, what royal family do you think she's part of?"

"Well, considering how most of the royals of Europe are interbred, she's probably the great-great-great-grand cousin of Queen Elizabeth the Second."

"Lot of greats in there, Daniel," Carter pointed out.

"Well, if President Van Buren is the president of the United States at the moment, that puts us back into the late 1830's, very early 1840's," he told her. "Given the local princess's first language choice for meeting strangers is Norwegian, that should put us in Norway. I wonder if she met Arendal? I spent some time there when I was on a dig in college, but it didn't look like this."

"Might not exist in our time, or was renamed," Carter pointed out. "There's no telling how this turns out, or is meant to turn out."

"We'll just have to keep an eye out for trouble," Daniel said as he began to rub his cold hands together. Carter nodded, and they kept trudging on, higher up the snow covered mountain, with the peak looming not far overhead where a storm seemed to be brewing. Taking his now warm hands and tucking them back under his arm pits, he hoped that the storm blew over soon.

=o=0=o=

Elsa/Selk's POV

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, a small blizzard raged outside the castle. Selk basked in her mini-storm as she stood on the balcony, watching the snow as it swirled around her castle. Concentrating as she stretched out her bare hand, she brought the snow to a stop which left the mountain in a pristine condition.

' **You are a very valuable host** ,' Selk said as she evaluated the landscape below her. ' **Too bad we don't have a victim to test our powers on**.'

' _I already have, and it nearly killed her_!' Elsa screamed back at the monster in her head. ' _My power is too dangerous to be around people! I can't control it_!'

' **You can't.** _ **I**_ **can** ,' she replied smoothly as she went back inside. 'But I can't practice my abilities without a victim,' she said, movement outside a clear ice window causing her to stop. She watched a large antlered reindeer walk up into the clearing. ' **Not quite what I was wanting** ,' she said as she watched the animal as it turned and called to something behind it. A large man in gray fur clothes soon appeared, his face going slack as he took in the ice castle Selk was standing on. ' **That is more like it**.'

She was just about to turn and walk down the stairs to greet her new victims when a purple cloaked figure walked out onto the path. When she saw the ice castle, she threw back her hood to openly stare at the wonder before her. Elsa saw the snow white streak in the woman's strawberry colored hair, and was shocked.

' _How did she find me here_?' she wondered, which caused Selk to study the figure more closely, then waves of excitement washed over her in anticipation for what she wanted to do.

' **Your sister? This is most unexpected** ,' Selk said as she watched Anna gawk at the castle. Selk turned away as she headed for the stairs. She would wait for Anna to enter the castle, but she wanted something to show her feeble sister that she was not only a queen, but a goddess.

Seeing a glint in the far corner, she searched Elsa's memories and found a likely culprit. Walking over, she was rewarded with the discarded tiara Elsa had thrown away when she vowed to never return to Arendelle. ' **You are foolish to throw away such power** ,' Selk admonished her host as she returned the tiara to her head. ' **A queen should always wear her crown**.'

' _It's a tiara_ ,' Elsa classified, mentally huffing at Selk's lack of jewelry knowledge. ' _My great-grandmother who commissioned it refused to wear such a bulky piece of jewelry in public_.'

' **And still you threw it away** ,' Selk said, further admonishing her host as she made a mirror to inspect her appearance. " **What would your great-grandmother Queen Ingrid say**?'

Elsa stewed in silence as Selk walked down the stairs. Anna's bright purple cloak was visible if somewhat obscured through the icy doors of the castle. Selk then removed the icy fountain Elsa had originally designed, wanting to build something more regal. She then made a raised three step dais with a large throne of pure ice which she immediately sat on, placing her hands on the arm rests.

With her back straight and head held high, she watched Anna enter through the doors. ' **Showtime** ,' Selk thought as their eyes locked. ' **Time for a little fun**.'

=o=0=o=

Daniel's POV

As Daniel rounded the bend and saw Anna, Kristoff and Sven stopped in their tracks, he first thought that they had found Elsa. As he took what he saw though, he had to admit to being impressed. An entire castle made of pure ice sat across the snow covered clearing glistening in the sun. He couldn't even imagine how Elsa had even conceived the idea to build such an audacious structure in the first place, having figured she would have built a small house or fashioned an igloo or something, but to have built an entire castle?

"Daniel, what's, oh," Carter said as she took in the scene and joined the four as they gawked at the large structure of ice. As one, they started across the pristine landscape, making their way to the icy bridge that led to the castle's main entrance.

Sven was the first to reach the bridge, though as he started up the stairs the hoofed animal found he couldn't traverse the icy stairs. Kristoff helped the large animal back off the path, and began speaking with him, telling him to wait. Anna was the next up, one hand lightly on the railing as she ascended the stairs. As Kristoff, turned to follow him, Daniel put a hand on his shoulder and told him softly, "Vent litt."

"Men isen er mitt liv!" he exlaimed, gesturing to the ice castle.

"Gi heene tid til a vaere sammen med sin soster," he told the man who looked longingly at the castle before sitting on the first step to begin counting, "En, to, tre..."

=o=0=o=

Elsa/Selk's POV

Elsa watched as her sister knocked on the door, finally gathering whatever resolve she had to confront her. Selk dissolved the lock on the door, then used a chilly breeze to swing the doors inward to allow the princess access. Anna looked surprised at seeing the doors open so swiftly, and cautiously walked into the room.

' _Anna, run_!' Elsa mentally screamed as her sister began crossing the floor to where Selk sat in her body. Selk stayed ramrod straight though, as Anna reached the dais looking completely astonished as she took in the strange garments Selk now wore.

"Whoa, Elsa," she exclaimed softly as she stopped at the bottom. "You look different," she began but Selk held up a hand stopping her from continuing.

"I am still queen, _Princess_ Anna," she said in Elsa's normal voice and stressing Anna's title. Using her first finger, she pointed to the floor. "Show the proper respect, then you may continue."

Anna looked shocked, but nodded and knelt on the bottom step, arranging her dark blue skirt under her before raising her head to see Selk's smiling face.

"Now you may continue, Princess Anna," Selk said, almost gloating over Anna's head. "What brings you to my castle? I thought you and Prince Hans would be planning your wedding, or did he take the hint and leave?"

"Actually," Anna said, nervously chuckling as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "He's back in Arendelle. I left him in charge to come find you."

Outrage flashed through Selk that Elsa shared. 'Anna! You left a stranger in charge of Arendelle!' she mentally screamed.

' **Your sister is woefully, inept in the affairs of state** ,' Selk noted as she rose to stand from her throne and voiced her disdain to Anna. "You should have stayed in Arendelle to look after our people."

"About that," Anna said, as she let out another nervous chuckle. "We kind of need you to come back."

"Burden of rule too much for you," Selk said snidely, causing Anna to flinch.

"No, I could handle running Arendelle," she said somewhat confidently before slightly wincing. "If you hadn't set off an eternal winter."

"What?" Selk asked, astonished at what she heard from Anna as she went through Elsa's memories of leaving. Elsa didn't remember setting off any storms, only that she used her icy powers to run across the fjord near the castle. Feigning astonishment, she added "I didn't set off any storms."

"You kind of did," Anna said as she looked up at Selk. "There's several feet of snow in Arendelle, now."

"Huh," Selk said softly as she listened to Anna. "I guess I'm more powerful than I thought."

"So if you can come back and end the storm..." Anna started, pausing when Selk turned furiously to face the kneeling princess.

"Return!" she said, getting indignant in a mock show of hatred. "If I return it will be as a conquerer."

"Elsa!" Anna said surprised, standing and backing away from her. "The people trust us to protect them."

' _That's right, Anna, get away before she kills you_ ,' Elsa mentally pleaded as Selk advanced on Anna.

"Protect them?" Selk added, as she kept advancing on a retreating Anna. "Are they not supposed to protect us, also? Where was that 'protection' when they found out about my power? Was not the Duke of Weselton calling me a 'witch.' They torture witches, Anna. Force them to admit their crimes to avoid further pain and humiliation. Is that protecting?" she asked, raising her voice as she reached the end and Anna backed herself into a wall.

"N-no," she stammered, as she eyed Selk advancing on her. "They shouldn't torture you. But they were scared. If you come back and end the storms, they'll love you again!"

"Poor, poor Anna," Selk cooed as she cupped Anna's cheek. "Such naivete. If I return to Arendelle and beg forgiveness, the people will see me dead. However," she said, and Elsa felt her voice box switch, " _ **If I return as a conqueror, the people will be afraid of me and then I will be safe. They will fear me too much**_."

Anna didn't notice the bassist overtone which Elsa's voice took on, but looked at her with disgust. "If you conquer Arendelle, people might get hurt, killed! We're supposed to protect them!" she exclaimed, remembering her mother's lessons on what a princess's life. "Killing isn't protecting, Elsa."

" _ **Tsk, tsk**_ ," Selk said, taking in Anna's words. " _ **You'd stand against your own sister**_?"

"If you intend to hurt the people of Arendelle, then yes," she said, standing tall against the wall. "I will stop you."

" _ **Then you will be the first to die**_ ," Selk said as Elsa cried for her sister. Selk raised her gloved hand, funneling the naquadah into her bloodstream to activate the kara kesh. The ruby glowed as it was charged, and Selk raised to Anna's forehead. "Goodbye, sister," she said, as tiny lightning bolts arced from the ruby to Anna's forehead.

' _Nooooooo_ ,' Elsa screamed as her sister's eyes lost focus as her body began to convulse. But there was nothing she could do. Selk was in charge, and she was forced to watch as Selk began to scramble Anna's brain past its ability to function.

=o=0=o=

Daniel's POV

Daniel stood at the bottom of the stairs, as Kristoff continued his count. Carter was looking at the supports Elsa had made under the castle as she gauged its structural integrity and Sven was rummaging through the snow looking for grass to nibble on. At least, he thought so as he watched the reindeer use it's antlers to dig at something in the landscape.

Kristoff stopped counting as the reindeer made started to call attention to something as it dug, getting animated as it dug in a circle. "Hva er det, Sven?" he called to the animal. Sven answered with another call, then put its head down in the snow as it rooted a body out of the ground.

"Sam!" Daniel called as he immediately ran towards the frozen corpse, recognizing it immediately as the Goa'uld who had briefly imprisoned them. "It's Selk! She's here!"

Sam over, kneeling beside the corpse as she pressed a finger to the woman's neck as she checked for a pulse. When she removed her hand, she shook her head and looked at Daniel. "Nothing, and I don't sense a Goa'uld inside her either."

"Look at her mouth, Sam," Daniel said as he stared at the naked corpse. "Even her clothes were removed. She survived Sam. She landed here, and survived."

"Barely, but she was wounded, badly," she said as she poked the corpse with her hands. "She would have needed a new host..."

"Elsa," Daniel said as he whirled to the castle. "She took Elsa!" he yelled as he sprinted for the stairs and up the steps.

He didn't even bother to knock as he burst through the doors to find Elsa, now Selk, using a Goa'uld Hand Device to kill Anna. Selk turned her head at the booming of the door being thrown open, and Daniel watched as her eyes glowed bright in the characteristic sign of a Goa'uld possession. Throwing caution to the wind, and lacking a weapon, Daniel rushed the queen and put his shoulder into her bare gut.

The tactic worked as Daniel intended, and the petite queen was thrown to the floor. Anna stood glassy eyed, then began to topple forward but Daniel caught her. He could feel her racing heart, as he caught her, and breathed a sigh of relief. He began to scoop her up as Selk regained her feet.

" _ **Doctor Jackson**_ ," she said as she stood, aiming her hand device at him. " _ **I didn't think I'd be so lucky to find you so soon**_."

"Yeah, well," he said as he backed for the door. "You know what they say about lady luck. She needs better aim."

Selk looked as if she were about to ask what he meant when a snowball sailed past his head and hit Selk square in the face. Daniel didn't waste any time as he turned and ran for the door with Anna in his arms as Selk wiped the snow from her eyes. He could hear her howl of frustration as he followed Sam down the stairs to a waiting Kristoff and Sven. "Run!" he yelled at them as they met up, but an ice wall appeared between them and the trail they had come up.

Daniel looked back to see Selk fuming mad at the doorway, her bare hand outstretched as she built the ice wall ever higher, making sure the four humans were trapped with her. The four ran to the far side of the clearing as Selk descended the stairs, only to find it led to a cliff with a two hundred foot drop. Daniel looked back to see Selk marching towards them, then Kristoff grabbed him by the shoulder and turned Daniel to face him.

"Hoppe. Snøen nedenfor er ferskt pulver. Det vil myke høsten. Som landing på en myk pute.»

Daniel noticed Selk was getting close when she raised her bare hand. Kristoff saw it, saw the ice forming over her palm as a projectile of ice shot from her open hand and raced towards Daniel. Daniel himself couldn't move, not expecting such an attack and was momentarily frozen from shock. He was only saved when Kristoff jumped in front of him, taking the icy spear for himself as he stumbled off the edge into the snow below.

Sven bellowed in response, a long shrill sound that made Anna flinch in Daniel's arms. He looked back to Selk as she marched on the remaining three people, then lowered his horns and charged her. Selk let fly another icy spear fly at the charging reindeer, but the icy weapon only glanced off his shoulder. Daniel took advantage of Sven's distraction and turned to Sam.

"We have to jump," he said as he got close to the edge. "Kristoff said it was soft powder. It'll cushion the fall."

"Alright," she said as she joined him. He heard the reindeer bellow as it battled Selk, but Sam grabbed his arm. "When you land, try to lean to the side. It'll help absorb the impact along the side of your body and minimize any injuries."

"Thanks for the heads up," he said, watching her cross her arms and jump. He looked back to see Sven with two spears protruding while Selk used a third to pierce his heart. Feeling sorry that the poor creature had to die for their distraction, Daniel hugged the princess close to his chest as he jumped off the cliff to avoid the last icy spear Selk threw in his direction.

=o=0=o=

Elsa/Selk's POV

Elsa was shocked but eternally grateful when she saw the man Selk's memories identified as Doctor Daniel Jackson charge and knock her to the floor. She knew from the Goa'uld's memories that Anna hadn't been tortured long enough to leave any lasting damage, but she would do her best to see Doctor Jackson got the chance to get her out of here alive.

' _Stop_!' she shouted at Selk, doing her best to prevent the Goa'uld from quickly gaining her feet. She was unsuccessful though, as Selk quickly got up and trained her kara kesh on the retreating doctor. She saw he was holding Anna in his arms, and knew that if she somehow escaped Selk's control of her body she could never repay the doctor for helping rescue Anna.

" _ **Doctor Jackson**_ ," she said as she stood, aiming her hand device at him. " _ **I didn't think I'd be so lucky to find you so soon**_."

"Yeah, well," he said as he backed for the door. "You know what they say about lady luck. She needs better aim."

Elsa saw the blonde woman enter her castle, just as Doctor Jackson finished his threat. She saw felt the fear from Selk that she might have some kind of weapon before she saw the windup of a snowball. Selk's momentary pause as she searched for a memory association and lack of fear from Elsa allowed the blond to pitch the snowball right into her face. Elsa laughed in glee as Selk was distracted as she wiped the snow from her face. 'Let them leave,' she said as Selk wiped the last of the snow from her face.

" _ **I will kill them all for this!**_ " Selk howled as she marched for the door. When she got there, Elsa found that they were running across the clearing to the path that brought them up. Selk raised her hand, using Elsa's power to form an ice wall that prevented them from escaping so easily. Once they were routed, Selk descended the stairs, watching as the four humans made for the far side of the clearing. She could sense Selk search her memories, but she had no idea if she could use her powers to attack at a distance like that.

Raising her hand, Selk started to build ice on her palm then pressed out with her power, causing an ice spike to shoot towards Doctor Jackson. Elsa howled in anguish as the ice spike sailed towards Doctor Jackson and her sister, but the blonde man with them jumped in front of the spike taking the deadly missile to the chest and stumbled off the cliff.

Selk continued her march on the three surviving figures, but the reindeer with them seemed angered by the loss of the blonde man. It turned and charged her, head low and horns first. Selk threw another ice spear at the animal, but it didn't change the animals course any as it came closer and she was forced to dive to the side before it's horns connected to her.

Conjuring another ice spear from her hand, she scored a direct hit on the rampaging animal in its side which caused the animal to flounder and bellow as it tried to get its feet back under it. Selk put another spear in its side before it did, and the big beast fell back into the snow. Wanting to put the animal past any further use, Selk made a long spear of ice that she used to stab the beast in its chest, and the animal gave one last feeble bellow as it finally died.

Turning back to the cliff, Elsa saw that the only person left was Doctor Jackson, who still held a sleeping Anna. ' _You kill Anna and I swear I will find a way to cause you to die_ ,' Elsa threatened as Selk raised her hand to form another icy spear. Doctor Jackson locked eyes with her, right before he turned to jump, the spear released from her hand. The spear came close to hitting Doctor Jackson in the back, but the scientist fell out of sight before the spear found its target.

' **They jumped to their death** ,' Selk said in an astonished voice. She calmly walked over to the edge of the cliff, only to find the snow beneath was unblemished except for the blond man she had killed. Selk searched for many long moments for any sign of the trio that had escaped, but found nothing.

' **No difference** ,' she said as she turned and walked to the ice wall she had made. ' **If your sister will not submit to my will, then she will die with the rest of those who will resist me.** '

Elsa could only cry as Selk marched to the ice wall and dissolved it, before she continued walking down the path she had come up. It was time she knew, Selk would spread her misery if Anna couldn't get to Arendelle first and rally the guard. Her only chance was in a bare hope one memory showed her of a host who could overpower his captor, though it was only in brief glimpses. If Elsa could get control after Anna faced the guard, maybe she could stop Selk from activating the force field and allow herself to be shot.

Her death was a small price to pay for Anna's survival.

Chapter 3

July 02, 1838 – North Mountain, Arendelle – Earth

Daniel's POV

Daniel couldn't think of a scarier feeling than jumping off a cliff into snow, except maybe looking down the barrel of your own death coupled with the knowledge you were about to die. He'd done that a few times in his life, stared down death. He'd even lost once, only surviving by Ascending to a higher plane. But he knew that if hadn't of jumped, he would surely have died by Selk's hand.

So he was rather grateful that when he landed in the deep snowbank that he wasn't injured. It really was like landing on a pillow. Within seconds of landing, Major Carter was already spreading snow over the three of them.

"We have to hide," she said as she covered Anna's colorful cloak with snow. "If she thinks we're dead or already gone, she won't attack."

Daniel nodded, and Carter covered him and Anna in the snow, before wallowing in the frigid material herself and hiding from sight. His heart raced as he lay there, a shivering Anna in his arms. He hoped the princess would remain quiet until Selk had left, but all she did was huddle close to him as she curled into a ball on his stomach.

"Shh," he whispered, holding her close as they waited. After what seemed like minutes, Carter finally gave the all clear and he sat up with Anna still in his arms.

"Is she alright?" Carter asked as she came over.

"Selk was torturing her when I went in," Daniel said as he cradled Anna. "She's still breathing, but I think she'll be alright."

"She's likely in shock from seeing her sister attack her," Carter pointed out as she got to her feet. "She's probably never seen violence before, living in a palace all of her life."

"True," Daniel conceded as he shifted Anna around so he could get to his knees. "We need to get out of here though, before she can find us."

"Can you carry her?" Carter asked as Daniel got to his feet.

"I'm going to have to, aren't I?" Daniel asked as he hefted the light weight princess in his arms. "Let's head back to Arendelle. Maybe if we get there first, we can rally the guard against Selk."

"It's liable to be tomorrow before we get down this mountain," Carter pointed as she led the way down. "We're at least three thousand feet up."

"How can you tell?" he asked as he followed her.

"We're above the tree line," Carter said as she trudged on. "Usually only happens in higher elevations or too frigid conditions. Back in Colorado the tree line in the Rockies is about twelve thousand feet where England can't grow a tree above two thousand feet."

"And since we're in a location geographically similar to England..." Daniel started to say but stopped as he stumbled on a hidden root but Carter finished his line of thought for him, "...It stands to reason that the tree line is similar. That should put us only five or ten klicks from town."

"Great," Daniel said as he huffed along behind Carter. "Think we'll get there tonight?"

"Doubt it," Carter said as she continued on. "Good thing is I have a lighter in my pocket, so if I can find some dry brush I can make a fire."

"Great," Daniel said as they continued on. He did his best with the injured princess, but he was forced to stop every so often and rest his arms. On those occasions he set her down, she seemed anxious. So he stayed by her side, holding her close.

Once night began to fall, Carter located a small clearing surround by trees. She then started piling some branches in a pile in the center while Daniel sat the princess next to a log. He couldn't help but stare into her face, wondering if she was going to come out of the shock or not when her eyes flew open.

"Where am I?" she said, sitting upright and looking around the clearing finding only the three of them. "Where's Kristoff?"

"He took an ice spike when we were escaping," Daniel told her and she paled as she heard the news. "Sven charged Elsa," he said, using her sister's name instead of the Goa'uld's as he wasn't sure if she'd understand the nature of a Goa'uld possession, "And your sister also killed him. I was able to get you out, but you've been unconscious all day."

Anna collapsed against the log, as she pulled her knees up to her chest. "So Elsa really tried to kill me?"

"Yes and no," Daniel said as Carter worked on building the sticks for a fire.

"What do you mean 'yes and no?' It's one or the other," Anna said as she looked at Daniel.

"In this case, it's not," Daniel said as he looked at Anna. "Me and Sam aren't from around here, but in this case it's not the Atlantic Ocean that separates us. It's about a hundred and sixty years into your future."

"But how?" Anna said, shaking her head. "How can you be from the future?"

"Daniel," Carter said in warning, as she started the leaves to burn.

"Sam, we're up to our neck in problems here. At this point we need her help, so I think a little honesty might help," Daniel replied back to Sam. She looked at the building flame, then nodded her head. Turning back to Anna, he took in her apprehensive state and expecting demeanor before he continued on.

"Elsa was taken captive by an alien being known as a Goa'uld. It's a small, parasitic organism that resembles a snake. It wraps around the victim's spine and makes a connection to central nervous system. Once this connection is established, the Goa'uld and host share memories, and they can take control of the host body," he said, watching as Anna's face went white. "The host is alive and conscious throughout this process, and remains so for as long as the Goa'uld has possession of the body."

"Can it be removed?" she asked softly, almost in a whisper.

"Some of our allies could remove a Goa'uld without killing the host. But without access to the Stargate, we can't get a hold of them," he said as the heat began to fill the clearing. "I'm afraid that without those contacts, we're back to dealing with this on our own."

"Is there any way to make it choose someone else?" she asked.

"Yeah, there is. If you somehow wounded Elsa's body past the point of it being able to survive, the Goa'uld might jump to a new host," he said as he saw a glimmer of hope appear in Anna's eyes. "However, after the first few hours the host wouldn't survive on its own. By the time we catch up with your sister again, we would need our allies to prevent your sister's death."

"Where can we find a Stargate?" Anna asked.

"The Stargate was first uncovered at an archaeological dig in Giza, Egypt in 1928. The device itself is about twenty-two feet in diameter. The device can create a portal to a similar device on a foreign planet and allow for instant travel between the two points. We use it to traverse to other worlds, and explore the galaxy. Our first trip through, we encountered the Goa'uld. We've been at war ever since."

"And your allies?" Anna asked.

"Our most powerful allies are the Asgard," Daniel started and Anna's face lit up.

"Like the Norse Gods of old?" Anna asked excitedly.

"Considering the one we talk to most often is named Thor and was the person responsible for the myth we have today, yeah," he said nodding his head. "Same thing with the Goa'uld. They play gods to the lesser evolved races, but the Asgard want to help and protect. The Goa'uld want to dominate and destroy."

"So, Thor helps people," she asked, her eyes distant as she thought it over. "How would you contact him?"

"Well, if we had it to do all over again, I'd say travel to Cimmeria," he said, then laughed. "In fact, if we could trick the Goa'uld through the Stargate when it's connected to Cimmeria we could save Elsa without alerting the Asgard at all."

"Why?"

"In front of the Stargate on Cimmeria is a large obelisk called Thor's Hammer. It scans everyone that comes through the gate and if it detects a Goa'uld, it transports the person to an underground cave. At the end of the cave is a hall. The devices in the hall prevent any Goa'uld from escaping, killing the Goa'uld but leaving the host to live."

"So there's a chance we can save Elsa?"

"Not really. Even if we make it back first, the advanced technology she carries will make it all but impossible to take her captive. The glove like thing she was using on her hand to kill you contains a force field. It's strong enough to deflect any bullet fired at her. That glove can also fire a wave of kinetic energy, like getting hit with a slow speed cannonball."

"So, what you're saying is we have to kill her," Anna said as she collapsed back against the log.

"Unfortunately," Daniel said as he bowed his head.

"There's no way to save her?"

"If we sit back, lie low, and wait," Carter said moving over to join them by the log, "we could lock her in her sarcophagus. It's a large box they build to rejuvenate their host so they can live forever."

"You can do that?" Anna asked her.

"Pull the right crystal, and it will get stuck in it's rejuvenation cycle. Elsa won't wake up until I reinsert the crystal, which allows us to take control of everything and bring the Stargate to her."

"We do that, and we can send her on a one way trip to Cimmeria," Daniel said and Anna smiled.

"You two really are from the future," Anna said as she looked at the two green clad scientists. "Are you even from the United States?"

"Yes," Daniel said as he looked at her. "Except in our time we have fifty states spread out over the North American continent."

"And Arendelle?"

"Never heard of it," Daniel admitted. "It's likely due to a peasant revolt sometime in the next thirty years. A lot of the kingdoms you know now don't survive to see the 1900's. Arendelle is likely one of them."

Anna deflated at that as she pondered the fate of her country. Daniel and Carter left her to her own musings as they warmed themselves for the first time since entering the past. With nothing left to say, the night passed on, with Anna eventually curling up on her cloak and using Carter's jacket as a blanket.

Carter herself took the first watch of the night, feeding the fire and staying close for warmth while Daniel rested. When her wristwatch passed four hours, she woke Daniel and he gave her his jacket to wear while she slept. When the sun rose into the sky after six hours, Anna awoke and they pushed on.

They had to get to Arendelle before the Goa'uld did. It was their only hope.

=o=0=o=

Ela/Selk's POV

It was getting late as Selk marched Elsa's body down the path towards Arendelle when she heard the sound of horse's hooves coming up the path. Standing firm in the way of anyone who would come, she was a little surprised to see a man Elsa's memories identified as Prince Hans. With him were several members of the queen's guard and two men she had seen with the Duke of Weselton. The men slowed their horses, gathering around her before dismounting and bowing to her.

"Queen Elsa," Hans said after bowing. "Have you seen Princess Anna?"

"I have," Selk said, using her normal voice. "We met at the top of the mountain. The last I saw of her, she jumped over the side of a cliff after attacking me."

"She, attacked you?" Prince Hans said, astonished. "But why?"

"For the throne of Arendelle," Selk said and Prince Hans stepped back a step. "Was this a conspiracy, Prince Hans? To kill me so that my sister can claim the throne?"

"No, your majesty!" Prince Hans exclaimed as the royal guards raised their swords. "We had only talked about marriage, your majesty, never killing anyone."

"Then kneel and swear fealty to me now, Prince Hans," Selk said coldly as her guards surrounded the royal before her. "Or shall I have the guards execute you for treason?"

Prince Hans looked to the two guards that had taken up positions on either side of him, their swords already drawn and looked back to the icy glare the queen was giving him and sighed. Selk relished the man's uneasiness, only smiling as he lowered himself to a knee and bowed her head.

"I pledge myself to you, Queen Elsa, ruler of Arendelle, and promise on my faith that I will be in the future faithful to you, never cause you harm, and will observe my homage against all persons in good faith and without deceit," Prince Hans said, bowing his head to the queen.

"Very good, Prince Hans," Selk said to the still kneeling prince. "You may now rise," she added as she turned to bodyguards to see them both raising crossbows. Selk sneered as she passed her right hand over the jewel on the back of the kara kesh on her left hand, activating her personal shield. Both guards shot true, their shots impacting the shield to bounce off and land at her feet.

Her guards quickly rounded on the attempted assassins, who were so in shock at seeing Elsa unscathed offered no resistance. Once her guards had the two men on their knees, Selk dropped the shield, turning to Prince Hans who had drawn his own sword and aimed it at the now kneeling men.

"Shall we return them to Arendelle, your majesty?" Prince Hans asked.

"Execute them, Prince Hans," Selk said as she looked at the men. "I have no desire to allow traitors to live."

"As you command, your majesty," Prince Hans said going over to the kneeling men. The large one tried to bolt, but the guard behind him, tackled him to the ground, ramming his sword home through the back of his chest. The attempted assassin grunted in pain, his arms going lax as his life ebbed out of him. Prince Hans calmly walked over to where he was lying on the ground raised his sword with both hands and brought it down through his neck.

' _Pity_ ' Elsa thought as she watched what was going on.

' **You don't mourn the man's death**?' Selk asked her.

' _Only that they failed_ ,' Elsa said, going quiet as she lamented her sorry state. Malie's memories that Selk still held told of a similar state her host had been in upon seeing the Goa'uld torture and kill. Even the Goa'uld's own memories told her that the host was forced to watch the world around them without being able to influence anything.

Selk watched in fascination as the blood squirted from his neck onto the snowy ground. Since the man wasn't pointed in her direction, she wasn't sprayed. The thinner unbearded assassin looked disgusted at the sight, but didn't try to escape as Prince Hans walked over to him.

"Wait!" the surviving assassin exclaimed as Prince Hans raised his sword. "The Duke ordered us to kill you!"

"Hold, Prince Hans," Selk ordered. She walked over to the man who looked at her with fear in his eyes. "You say the Duke ordered you to kill me. Why?"

"He was afraid of your sorcery," the guard informed her. "That's why he offered Prince Hans our services to help find you. We were to see that you never made it back to Arendelle."

' _Well, he was rather afraid of me and called me out for sorcery_ ,' Elsa snarked, remembering the event that drove her out of the castle. ' _If you return to Arendelle, the whole world will hate you for being a sorcerer. That's why I went to the peak of North Mountain to begin with?_ '

' **Then when the time comes, I'll show them the power of a god** ,' she growled as she appeared thoughtful to everyone around her.

"Very well," Selk said, frowning as she turned to Prince Hans. "When we return to Arendelle, we shall lay the blame for this assassination attempt on the Duke's shoulders," she said as she turned and walked away. The prince was about to sheath his sword when Selk turned to face the kneeling man. "Oh, and Prince Hans, you may now execute the prisoner."

"As you command, your majesty," he said as he quickly brought his sword up over the guard's head.

"No, wait!" the clean shaven guard yelled, as the royal guard of Arendelle forced him to his hands in front of his intended executioner, holding him there by sword point as Prince Hans brought the sword through his neck.

Wiping the blood from his sword, Prince Hans followed Selk to the horses before sheathing his sword. "Your orders, your majesty?"

"We ride to Arendelle, Prince Hans," Selk said, as she grabbed the reins of one of the cream colored horses belonging to the Arendelle cavalry before swinging into the saddle. The rest of the guards and Prince Hans swung into their saddles with the spare from the other Duke guard held by one of her royal guards.

Selk knew that on a horse they would make good time back to Arendelle, faster than Major Carter and Doctor Jackson would make on foot. Since she knew that Princess Anna would need to be carried for most of the day, it would slow them down and they were unlikely to leave her behind. This might be one of the few times their hero tendencies would cause them to fail.

Selk pondered her quiet host, pondering her thoughts about being seen in public in such a shameful dress. She wondered some if she should have stayed in the host's original wardrobe, then decided her new subjects needed to learn to accept their god. She would start when she got to Arendelle.

"Very well," Selk said, frowning as she turned to Prince Hans. "When we return to Arendelle, we shall lay the blame for this assassination attempt on the Duke's shoulders," she said as she turned and walked away. The prince was about to sheath his sword when Selk turned to face the kneeling man. "Oh, and Prince Hans, you may now execute the prisoner."

"As you command, your majesty," he said as he quickly brought his sword up over the guard's head.

"No, wait!" the clean shaven guard yelled, as the royal guard of Arendelle forced him to his hands in front of his intended executioner, holding him there by sword point as Prince Hans brought the sword through his neck.

Wiping the blood from his sword, Prince Hans followed Selk to the horses before sheathing his sword. "Your orders, your majesty?"

"We ride to Arendelle, Prince Hans," Selk said, as she grabbed the reins of one of the cream colored horses belonging to the Arendelle cavalry before swinging into the saddle. The rest of the guards and Prince Hans swung into their saddles with the spare from the other Duke guard held by one of her royal guards.

Selk knew that on a horse they would make good time back to Arendelle, faster than Major Carter and Doctor Jackson would make on foot. Since she knew that Princess Anna would need to be carried for most of the day, it would slow them down and they were unlikely to leave her behind. This might be one of the few times their hero tendencies would cause them to fail.

Selk pondered her quiet host, pondering her thoughts about being seen in public in such a shameful dress. She wondered some if she should have stayed in the host's original wardrobe, then decided her new subjects needed to learn to accept their god. She would start when she got to Arendelle.


	18. Terminator 6: War's End

Author's Note: Just a little idea I had while watching the last Terminator movie. There was so much that could have been done with that movie, but they dropped the ball like an anchor without a chain. Of course you know I'm going to put Elsa in it, though here she's one of the survivors. Hope you enjoy, and as always, please leave a review!

* * *

Chapter 01 – Betraying My Humanity

September 19, 2046 – Wednesday – 1635

Skynet Facility

~Elsa Arendelle~

(Seventeen Years after Judgment Day on July 19, 2029)

Looking at the line in front of me, I couldn't help but cry. I didn't know where my sister was, as the last I had ever seen of her was her red hair running through the smoke as she followed my order to run. I wasn't so lucky, and was rounded up by the transports and taken here; a death camp. I was about to die, and nothing was going to stop it.

An HK grabbed my arm, holding it under a scope. I yelped in pain as it burned a barcode into my arm. I kept moving forward, more numb to what was going on than anything else. How long did I have? Hours? Minutes? Would I be allowed to survive to clean up the bodies or would they maybe test their weapons on me?

Tears continued to pour down my face as I continued on, the gates snapping open and closed making me jump. As I replaced the man in front of me, the gates snapped open to my right, and for once I had no one to follow. No one had been routed this way, and every fiber of my being knew I wasn't going to die today. No, I was just routed to experimentation.

"Please, no," I begged, but an HK stepped out of the wall and grabbed me by the arm and began to drag me down the hallway. I kicked and screamed but there was not stopping him, there never was. Only my will to fight kept me kicking at it, even though I had no chance at escape.

The room it took me into was maybe twenty by twenty, with a Terminator skeleton standing in a support rack against one wall and an operating table beside it. Metal arms began to descend from the ceiling as the door sealed shut behind us, and finally the HK let me go. I scrambled back to the door, trying to get my fingers between the metal doors but they were sealed tight.

The metal arms grabbed at me, lifting me from the floor as something hissed against my neck. My arms started to lose strength, and I sobbed, "Please, I'd do anything," hoping for a miracle. I was turned around, facing the table and terminator.

I was stopped about halfway across the room as a man's image resolved itself out a projected pillar of light, it's eyes studying me, "Anything?" it asked, it's voice projected from hidden speakers but aligned perfectly as its mouth moved. "Are you willing to make a deal?"

"Why should I trust a machine?" I asked and it inclined its head.

"You are about to become one of us," it said, and my eyes snapped to the skeleton. It was about the right height and build, and I wanted to tear it apart. "You are the latest in an experiment to join man and machine. Even the latest iterations of Terminators are easily found and destroyed though I use living tissue to surround their bodies. Maybe it's the inability to successfully mimic human expression, or that they are too stiff and upright, but they do not have the success rating I need to win the war."

"How are you going to put me in that?" I asked, my body too numb now to move. I used my eyes though to point to the Terminator skeleton. The image turned to regard it, then another arm removed the top of its head to reveal an empty space. I could only imagine that it should be filled with processors, but there was nothing there.

"I shall remove your brain," it said simply, as another armed dropped to reveal a microchip. "I then insert deep this Neural Net Processor inside and interface it with your brain stem. From there, your brain then controls the endoskeleton much as you currently control your own body, with the Neural Net Processor bridging the gap."

"Does it work?" I asked, curious to the outcome. 'If I had a Terminator body, maybe I could escape' came to my mind.

"It does," it said, the chip raising back into the ceiling. "However, I have yet to understand why the person goes insane after. I fail to understand this. Maybe they had nothing to live for, or maybe there is a flaw I have not foreseen."

"If I do this, if I become that," I said, glancing back to the skeleton, "Will you spare Anna?"

"Who is this Anna?" it asked. "I do not have the names of all humans, so I require more to go on. What does she look like?"

"Um, a few inches shorter than me, red hair with a white streak," I said, and various red headed females began to cycle across a second column that was displayed beside it. Suddenly, its face settled on Anna's, and she seemed to be sitting.

"She's currently on her way here," it said, and I gasped in horror. Anna had been caught, and now faced her own death. "ETA is about thirty four minutes."

"Anna," I gasped, watching the tears stream down her face. She was so scared, and probably worried about me.

"Isn't much to her, is there?" it asked, watching Anna cry. "Gristle for the disposal units."

"If I become your Terminator, will you spare her?" I asked and it turned to me.

"Ah, so you are willing to bargain," it said. "Yes, I would. I will even give her the same upgrade I am giving you. You may even go live in the wilds as long as you don't interfere with the Hunter-Killers as they work. A pair of rogues are meaningless to me, it's John Connor that must die."

"The leader of the Resistance?" I asked and it nodded.

"Every time I think I have a way of destroying him, he foils me. How does he know what I am about to do before I do it?"

"They say he knows the future," I said, remembering the stories I'd heard about John.

"I will spare your Anna's life if you kill him," it said, the deal becoming real between us. "To help you, I will implant your brain into the Terminator here, and graft your own skin over it. This should allow you to get close to John Connor, then you kill him."

"When will you release Anna?" I asked it, wanting to be sure Anna would be free and where to find her.

"Your new body will come with a transceiver unit, allowing you to comm in when you have completed your task," it said, and the picture of Anna dissolved into nothing. "Once you are successful, comm in, and my machines will bring you back here where you will 'liberate' your sister and you can scurry off where you want."

Was there a choice? If I didn't make the deal, Anna would die and I would still find myself in that skeleton where it would probably force me to do it anyway and be a traitor to the human race. Or, I could, Anna would be safe and I'd be a Terminator, still betraying the human race to the machines but safe in the knowledge Anna was alive. Of course, John could always kill me and Anna would likely be run through disposal anyway, but at least I'd be dead before that happened.

"Alright," I said, hanging my head as I became a Gray, one of the humans who were loyal to Skynet and betrayed my own kind. "As long as Anna remains alive, I'll kill John Connor for you."

"Good," it said, and the arms maneuvered my body to the table where I was stripped of my clothes. Thankfully, the machines didn't rip anything off, instead untying my laces and undoing buttons with human-like precision, sliding each piece off with a gentleness I didn't anticipate.

Soon, I was stark naked on the table, and Skynet loomed over me. "We normally knock a person unconscious for the surgery," it informed me. I was personally glad that he wasn't ogling my body, but I guess machines didn't care for such things. "Since you have agreed to this procedure, and we have already neutralized your ability to move, would you care to be fully anesthetized or remain awake for the operation?"

"Awake," I said, hoping I didn't regret the decision. "Everyone went insane was anesthetized, I want to be awake."

"So be it," it said, disappearing to leave me alone with the robotic arms. They began to move, surgical blades were extended and a mirror was positioned over me which allowed me to see what they were doing.

The arms began to slice my skin, running down my arms from shoulders to wrists. More arms joined it, peeling the skin back to reveal the viscera and muscle beneath. The skin was eventually pulled off, taking the nails with it. The other arm had been treated the same way, leaving nothing but muscle and tendon behind. Both pieces were then put in a solution of some sort, as more of my body was mutilated.

The robotic arms worked their way down my body, each piece they removed went into the solution with my arms. It was eerie to watch, as every piece revealed more of my innards. Even some of that went into the solution, like my kidneys, entrails, liver, stomach and other pieces I couldn't guess at.

Different instruments were added, and in horror I watched it start cutting my ribs open. These were dumped into a trash bin, as I guess I'd be getting metal replacements. My heart and lungs were revealed, then the metal arms that had been working on my legs dumped the last of my lower skin in the solution filled vat and came to my face.

"What's in the vat," I asked before I had to still my face as the arms began cutting and removing my face.

"It will augment your skin with nanomachines, making it regenerate much faster," Skynet told me.

I rested easier at that, but only a little bit. My face was removed, as well as my ears and hair, along with my lips, cheeks, and eyelids. It came off as one big mask-like piece, and was dropped into the vat along with my other skin pieces. The same arms that removed my skin then began to remove my muscles, clearing off my skull. My head was raised, and more arms came in with saws, and began to cut my skull open.

It was the last step I knew, and I watched in silent anticipation as my brain was exposed. My eyes were never removed until my entire brain was exposed, allowing me to witness almost everything. When at last those robotic arms removed my brain from what remained of my skull, it also severed my eyesight. Some sort of charge must have kept my brain going, as I could still function.

It didn't seem long that I was in the dark about everything, before sparks of red seemed to flit through my eyesight. Then, like a visual scanner I had seen once when I was young and with my parents, my eyesight snapped on, coming on and clarifying my surroundings again with the precision of a visual scanner. My new eyes immediately fed me distance reports, structural integrity ratios and composition analysis of everything, including the solution my skin was dunked in.

My new ears could already hear the whir of the servomotors in the robotic arms as they worked on my body. My skin was removed from the vat, and grafted over my new skeleton. As I was unable to move, I studied the area I was in, and soon realized my brain now had access to the a status report from the Terminator I was in. Most of it was offline at the moment, some of it read integrating, and a few things read online, like visual and audio sensors.

The machines kept working on my body, and the mirror was repositioned to show me how I was being put back together. My arms went back on, with everything looking as it once did before it had been removed from my body. I looked at my corpse, now nothing more than meat, bone and gristle. There wasn't much left to it, and it was carted off on a treaded machine.

"Can you hear me?" I heard from the overhead speakers.

"Yes," I said, but it sounded metallic.

"Are you having any suicidal thoughts?" Skynet asked.

"No, but all the information being fed into my brain is overwhelming," I said.

"Ah," it said as if realizing something. The information seemed to slack off, most of it now appearing as a HUD as new programs were added for me to fine tune. One was the ability to switch views, and I swapped it to full color instead of the infrared the Terminators used.

More systems came online, as the robotic arms installed more of my organs and plastered my skin over my metal skeleton. They used a low power laser to meld my skin together, making it like new. After my arms were finished, and all they were doing were installing my internal organs, I flexed a hand experimentally. It didn't feel that different, but where before I could almost feel the muscles contort I now was processing the contracting and extending servomotors.

"How am I processing the electrical impulses from this new body?" I asked, and Skynet shimmered into existence in front of me.

"From the Neural Net Processor I implanted in your brain," it said, giving me a cross-section of a brain showing me where the processor was implanted. "From here, your brain now thinks of its new host body as its own, and will move the limbs in the same manner as you did before."

The last of my systems went green, and I was one hundred percent complete. All the robotic arms slid back into their sockets, leaving me in the support rack. Stepping forward, I found nothing had really changed as I moved like I normally did. My skin still felt normal, I mean, I could feel the cold floor under my bare feet, and the cold steel of the wall. Even my clothes, as I slipped them back on, felt the same. Comforting, even.

"What happens now?" I asked and Skynet smiled.

"Luckily for me, resistance fighters are already massing on the southern and western ridges," he informed me. "A slight change of plans has been made. You will not be released to imitate your own escape. You will leave this room and be escorted to the work camp imprisonment area. There you will be reunited with your sister, who has been injected with several miniaturized bombs. I will give you a week, to complete the assassination of John Connor before I detonate those bombs. If I get any intelligence that you are betraying me, I will kill her."

"I understand," I said as the door opened. A terminator like the one that had dragged me in here stepped through, grabbing my arm and scanning my barcode.

"You should be free tonight," it said, as the machine began to escort me to the door. "You will now be escorted to the same holding cell to work on cleaning the disposal machines with your sister."

"Then we shall meet again," I said, as I was escorted from the room.

It led me down the hallway, my HUD displaying the path we would take to get there. I sobered up, reminding myself I was now a traitor to humanity and technically a machine. I lowered my head, not looking up at the faces of the people we passed as they were marched to the holding pens where they'd be disposed of, the sick and elderly first then down the line to the more valuable chattel.

Not one call marked my passage, as I figured everyone was lost in their grief. Corridor after corridor we marched in silence, until finally we stopped outside a holding pen. I was turned to face the barrier, then marched through it. It wasn't until I heard the doors snap shut that I looked up at the other prisoners.

"Name?" one of them asked me.

"Elsa," I told him. "Elsa Arendelle."

"Elsa?" I heard a voice ask. And there she was, my little sister with her red hair and its white streak. Her clothes were grittier than I'd last seen her, her gray shirt and pants stained with dirt as if she'd tried to crawl under something to hide. She wrapped herself around me, sparking a brief moment of fear that she would sense my metal endoskeleton. "I ran just like you said, but they got me," she sobbed onto my shoulder.

"Hey, they got me too," I told her, twirling her hair. "Been here long?" I asked her, half joking with her.

"Since last night," she said, still sobbing and holding on to me. "I think I made it four hours on my own."

"They caught me right after," I told her, and she looked up at me.

"So where you been?" one of the gruff prisoners said.

Possible scenarios appeared on my HUD, so I just took the best one that didn't exactly lie. "Medical experimentation," I told them and they all winced. "They'd cut on me and then heal it with a laser."

"Did it work?" another of the prisoners asked, and I nodded and showed them my arms.

"No marks but the ones I got before I got here," showing them my scar on my right elbow. I'd got it on a piece of rock while sliding to hide from a Hunter-Killer.

"Relax," another one said. "She can't be a Terminator. Her skin's real, not rubber, and it has scars. Plus, she's recognized by another human."

The crowd broke up, leaving me and Anna alone. She led me to a corner and sat down, so I sat beside her. We talked a bit, with night coming on before she laid down on a makeshift bed. I settled in beside her, as we always did for warmth and comfort, but couldn't find any sleep. Knowing that the Resistance would soon be tearing these walls down, didn't help either.

Soon, sounds of battle reached my sensitive ears. Since no one moved, I had to believe no one else could hear it yet. That changed when a HK-VTOL flying machine went down in flames near us. Everyone surged to their feet to crowd the fence, even as more HK-VTOL machines went over us. Steaks of fire my HUD identified as missiles hit several, blowing them up.

"Do you think it's the Resistance?" Anna asked me, her face alight at the thought of freedom.

"Who else can do this to the machines?" I asked her back, remembering some of the small clans we dealt with in the wilds. They barely handled the HK's that roamed around looking for humans, let alone the harvesters. They survived mostly by being hidden.

"You think John Connor is with them?" another asked just as thunder seemed to roll overhead. My HUD told me it wasn't a storm, but massive explosions in the direction of the power plant. Power flickered, but the backups kicked on and kept the fences on.

"It'd be nice," I said, not wanting to say more but silently wishing it were true. I could do it and slink back into Skynet's good graces with Anna in tow.

We watched in silence, as more sounds of war drifted into the area. More of the HK's filled the corridor, Gatling guns ready to fire when the fences finally failed. I ducked Anna behind a pillar, protecting her with my own more indestructible body as another roar of thunder-like explosions ripped over us, cutting the power and dropping the fences.

With the fences down, everyone did what I would expect and rushed the machines. Their Gatling guns were loud as they mowed down the escaping prisoners. Even Anna tried to escape but I held her back, even as the people in front of us were mowed down under heavy fire.

"Let me go, Ells," she said, trying again to escape with the others.

"Anna, think!" I yelled back at her. "If you leave the cage they kill you. If we stay, the Resistance will free us."

"Really?" she asked with hope in her eyes.

"Yes, really." I watched as the machines took control of the compound, but then more fire erupted from the direction of the sorting area. The machines took notice, firing on the incoming fighters. The balance soon tipped in favor of the Resistance, and the corridor was clear.

"Anyone still here?" a male voice called from outside.

"Humans coming out," I called, stepping out timidly into a line of rifles held by the fighters. My HUD lit up with the various models and their lethality, and then my chances of surviving an encounter. Apparently it was less than one percent.

"Names?" he said, keeping his rifle pointed at us.

"I'm Elsa Arendelle," I said, as Anna hid behind me. "The redhead behind me is my sister Anna."

The man with the rifle lowered it slightly at that, keeping it ready and to his shoulder to fire. "Sergeant Reese, Tech-Com," he said, then moved his rifle sharply at another figure that came out of the cell. A light was shown on it, and my HUD showed me it was a Terminator, more precisely a T-600 model. It lifted a hand to block the bright light, but its rubbery skin was too visible and the rifles that had been aimed at us blew it apart.

"If you'll come with us," Sergeant Reese said, leading the way back out. Anna and I were apparently all that were left of the humans in this area, and we were led outside where more humans had been gathered in a large group.

"Wait here for processing," he said, as they gathered behind us to push me and Anna towards the group. "Dogs will be along shortly. They got a new trick with the infiltrators; real human skin. Makes them not so easy to spot."

"But, we're sisters," Anna complained holding onto my arm. "Surely no Terminator has ever been a woman before WITH a sister?"

"We don't take chances," Sergeant Reese said. "If you are what you say you are, there won't be any problems. If you aren't," he said, raising his gun to indicate he'd shoot us. Anna shrank in terror behind me, and Reese blushed a bit at scaring Anna.

"I think we get the picture, Sergeant Reese," I said, shrinking back with Anna.

"Best of luck to you," he said, turning around with the others and walking away to fight more.

I waited with the other prisoners, Anna clinging tightly to me. Another squad arrived, this one had a dog in tow. Prisoners were one by one pulled out of the group and passed by the dog. Those that passed on were loaded in a bus, which was most of them. Two of the 'prisoners' were actually Terminators, T-800 series from what my HUD told me, and were mowed down under plasma fire when the dogs began barking at them and they brought out hidden weapons. Soon, it was just Anna and I standing alone.

"Go on," I told her, giving her a slight push. She walked on, walking by the dog without a problem. Then they all looked at me.

I started walking, the dog giving me a look as I got close. Then it began barking. Every soldier around suddenly pointed their guns at me, and I raised my hands in surrender.

"Elsa! No!" Anna screamed, trying to get back to me. She was held back by two soldiers, but at least they weren't shooting me.

"Keep your hands up!" another soldier ordered as they shown their lights at me. I complied, wondering how I was going to get around this snag. The ring of soldiers grew tighter around me, and finally one brave soul ventured forward with a pair of restraints, which were chained around my body as tight as they could get. My arms were then crossed over my chest, and chained in place. Even then, they never lowered their guns.

"Why are you doing this?" Anna cried out, trying to get back to me. I could see the soldiers uncertainty, mostly aimed at Anna now, as she continued to struggle. One of the soldiers finally kicked her knees out from under her, taking her to the ground.

"Don't hurt her," I said, bringing the guns back up as they focused on me. I watched as they led the dog over to Anna, as it sniffed her before giving her a friendly lick.

"Nice doggy," she said, smiling at it as it licked her face.

The man holding the dog's leash looked uncertain for a moment, then led it back to me. It didn't even get close before it began barking at me, making everyone look at me with curiosity.

"Take her back to camp," one of the soldiers said, and I was led to the bus. "If she tries something, blow her apart."

A chorus of 'aye, sirs' sounded around me as I was led past Anna, who got to her feet. She trailed close to me as I awkwardly got in the bus, since my hands were bound and breaking free was a sure way to get caught, and sat with several soldiers pointing their guns at me. After I took a seat near the front, a thick bag was placed over my head and tied on.

The ride went as well as could be expected. Every person with a gun kept it aimed on me, and even Anna wasn't allowed to get too close to me, lest she be a turncoat and free me or give me a weapon. I could only sit in silence, though, as my new eyes couldn't see or detect anything. My HUD did give me a mapping function, keeping track of my coordinates, speed and direction along with everyone in the area and what weapons they had. I thought that with what I had, I could navigate my way anywhere, which made the bag useless, but seeing as I was an unknown, had to be controlled I guess.

When we got to where we were going, I knew I was being led away from Anna by the fading sound of her screaming. I was marched south by southeast a hundred-fifty-four steps, then down sixteen steps into some kind of bunker. I was glad my HUD was keeping track of it, even kept track of the twists and turns as I was marched in circles around the bunker and its obstacles they weren't maneuvering me around. I made sure to trip on each one, so as not to arouse suspicion of my mapping capabilities. I knew that's what they were checking me fore because I could hear the forced whispers mocking me and saying I must be human.

Finally, someone opened a door, leading me off the well-traveled route we'd been marching and into a new area. A dog whined, and then the bag was removed to reveal a large room. My HUD immediately lit up at seeing John Connor, identifying him and his various scars.

"They say you're a machine," John said, stepping forward. I looked around, seeing I was still surrounded by soldiers carrying guns, and with my arms secured across my chest, knew without my HUD display killing John right now was impossible. "But, it's also been reported that you have a sister, alive and well, who identifies you as being her sister. Now, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"I just don't get along well with dogs," I told him. John inclined his head to the side, then nodded his head.

"Fair enough," he said, then pulled out a camera. "I'm going to take your picture, to be circulated to all personnel. If you are human, it'll be used to identify you and allow you access to the base when you return. If not, we'll use it to spot more like you. So, smile for the birdie," John said, reminding me of my mom's old saying when she took our picture when we were kids.

I smiled, then John took my picture. When John handed the camera off to a soldier behind him, he was smiling. "Put the weapons down, boys," he said stepping forward. "Fifty six years Pops lived with humans, and he couldn't smile half as good as Elsa just did."

"Sir, no disrespect intended," Sergeant Reese said as he came around me, his gun at the ready, "But you're basing the fact that she's human on a smile?"

"Machine's can't learn human emotion," John told him. "They can't cry, can't be sad, and can't be happy. That also means that they can't simulate the facial expressions that go with it. You ever find a machine not trying to kill you, ask it to smile. Then you'll see what I mean."

"Aye, sir," Reese said, finally lowering his weapon.

"So, what's your name?" John asked me as he poured a couple of cups of water. He handed one to me, and I took a tentative sip, my HUD telling me it was safe to drink as I had everything needed to process it.

"Elsa Arendelle," I told him. My HUD tracked Reese behind me, based on the sounds he was making, and also telling me he was drinking from his canteen. "I was born before Judgment Day, as was Anna, though she was too young to really remember it. We grew up in the Wyoming area, though I have no idea where we are exactly now."

"North of a town that used to be called Las Vegas," he told me, the name sparking a memory.

"Light city?" I asked him, remembering a photo my mom showed me of the legendary city. "I never saw so many lights in one spot before."

John laughed at that, sitting on a chair and gesturing for me to sit opposite him. "We called it Sin City," he told me, then took a drink of the water. "You could get everything you ever wanted there, and I do mean everything."

"Food? Water? A shower?" I asked him, and that made John laugh more.

"And spend some intimate time with women, or men," he said, and I nearly spit out my water as I was taking a sip. "It was a place of gambling, pleasure and few ethics."

"Don't guess I was old enough for that," I told him, taking a sip of the sweet water.

"Neither was I," John said with a laugh, "But I guess I was old enough to dream of it."

"So, what happens now?" I asked him, wondering what happened to people they rescued.

"You can hang out here," he said, then leaned back. "We don't force people to help out, but we do welcome people who do. The rations only go so far right now, so even help with things like farming, mining for resources, or assembly are greatly appreciated."

"And what about those of us who can fight?" I asked him, not sure how well I could but knowing my HUD and terminator body would give me a large boost in that arena. I would also need a weapon if I wanted to kill the man in front of me.

"That's even easier," John said, standing up. "Reese, take her down to the firing range, find a weapon she can use and get her outfitted. Anyone gives you any grief about her setting off the dogs, tell them to take it up with me."

"Aye, sir," Reese said, snapping John a salute.

"Thank you, sir," I said, doing the same and getting a smile from John.

"We'll start you out as a private, but I think you can do better," he said, as Reese led the way to the door.

"I'll try, sir," I said, then turned and followed Reese. I definitely needed a weapon, maybe get close enough to John for it to be effective and then I could assassinate him.

Step one, check.


	19. Blue Planet 01

**Author's Note** : Technically speaking, this is a Star Trek: TNG story, but it's all my own characters within set Star Trek canon. No set timeline on when it takes place, except somewhere before Star Trek: Generations and after Star Trek TNG Season 3.

* * *

Chapter 1 – Our First Day

Kevin Carpenter

I awoke as water flooded face. I picked myself up, trying to take in the situation. Not that I could remember much of what happened. Several meters away from me, a young Vulcan girl, T'feri I think her name was, lay under a bulkhead with her eyes closed and arms pinned. After searching around, I found the pilot was slumped over his console. Figuring that the pilot was the greater need, I went forward and pulled the pilot back off the console to find a large burn across the pilot's chest. I examined the wound, even as water pooled around my feet, and I figured he was dead. That and his eyes had the glassy look of death I'd seen in holodecks.

"Is anyone there?" I heard from behind me. The voice was soft, though strong. I searched around, finding T'feri was awake. The water was already reaching her ears, and she was still pinned under the bulkhead. "Can you lift the bulkhead off of me?" she asked, and her calm was unnerving to me. How does anyone stay calm when they are about to drown?

"I'll try," I told her, putting my hands under it and heaving hard. I could barely move it, then she managed to remove her arm from under the bulkhead and helped me leverage it off of her. I held it for a moment, allowing her to get out from under it before letting it fall back into the water. It wasn't until then we started to realize we were under water and sinking.

"Can you swim?" T'feri asked me.

"Yes, though I'm not used to swimming outside of a low gravity field," I told her. Truthfully, I hadn't swam all that much, but at least I could. "You?" I asked her, and she shook her head.

"I have never learned, though now I wish I had taken the time," she said as she examined our surroundings.

"Do you need me to help you?" I asked her, remembering something from xenoculture studies that Vulcan's didn't like to be touched.

"Yes, I am certain I will if we can escape here," she told me as she inspected an emergency hatch. "We should try to take whatever we can before we open this hatch."

"Alright," I said, going aft for my bag. There wasn't much in it, spare clothes, my datapad filled with personal information and a few books and my fishing kit. If we were going to be stranded for a few weeks, we'd need it. I sat on my bed and removed my boots and socks, before stowing them inside my duffel. T'feri saw me stowing them in my duffel.

"Why did you remove your boots? Does that help you swim?"

"Yes, it does," I told her as I stuffed them in my bag. "You might want to do it yourself." She nodded, coming into the rear cabin to remove her own boots and socks and stowing them in her bag.

I picked up my duffel and waited for her to pick hers up, then we went back into the main part of the cabin where she set her duffel on top of a console as she began to search under it for something. I couldn't imagine what she was looking for while we sank into an ocean.

"What are you looking for?"

"The emergency medical kit," she said, then squatted under the console, and the water, to better search for the kit. When she came up, she had the kit in her hands, then opened her duffel to put the kit inside. "We may need this for survival."

"You think it might be that long?" I asked, and she nodded.

"We hit some sort of subspace anomaly, I think," she said, pausing to recollect her thoughts, "I'm not sure what type, but we may not be on course and any subsequent search for us may take days to complete."

I sighed, looking around the cabin as the water continued to rise. "Computer," I called, stepping over to the replicator in the back of the cabin. "Is the replicator still functioning?"

"The replicator is functioning at this time," the computer said, though the voice was garbled.

"Replicate the following items in order," I said, trying to remember the list of things my grandfather used on our camping trips back home in Arkansas. "A bowie knife, a hatchet, and a camping shovel." The replicator made each item, and as soon as it was finished replicating, I pulled it out and stuffed it in my bag. As it replicated the final item, the water shorted out the panel it pulled its power from and it went dark. I stuffed the shovel in my duffel and looked back to T'feri. "It's time to go."

"It might be best if you carried me," she said, and I nodded, then I moved close enough for her to climb on my back. Her grip was surprisingly strong, but she wasn't any more than forty kilograms in weight weight which was a lot less in the water. I carried her over to the door, then hit the release. Water flooded in around the broken seal, and I held on to the door as the water rose over my head. I headed out, kicking for the surface.

It was so dark when I breached the surface that at first I couldn't make any sense of the surrounding area. It was only after treading water for a bit that my eyes adjusted and I could thankfully make out an island in the distance. I angled for it, with T'feri holding on to my back, and began the long swim to the island.

-o-0-o-

Dawn was breaking when we finally reached shore. It wasn't until I could finally stand up that T'feri slid from my back and helped me up to the dry sand where I collapsed from exhaustion. Thankfully, we still had our bags, but as I checked mine, found the clothes inside were as soaked as the ones on my back.

"Thank you," T'feri said, as she knelt in the sand. "I would have drowned had it not been for you."

"How come you never learned to swim?" I asked her.

She shrugged. "I prefer calisthenics, and my mother's last posting didn't have a public swimming pool."

I nodded at that, before forcing myself to get up on my knees and scan the tree line before pulling my socks and boots from my duffel and putting them back on. "Let's get into the shade," I said as I looked at the tree line. From the looks of the trees, I'd say we were on the lee side, which was good. It was less likely to get hit by a storm on this side. The trees also looked like oak or maple. Could be hickory for all I knew though, though some were decidedly more palm. All in all, once you got past the coast, it looked more like a tropical paradise with a thick forest.

"Shouldn't we try to get dry?"

I shook my head. "Weather's warm enough to not have to worry about hypothermia, but we need to start with the three basics of survival."

"Food, water and shelter?" she asked me as I moved into the tree line where I waited on her to pull her socks and boots from her duffel and put them back on.

"Yep," I said, my southern accent still showing as I looked around for dangerous animals. "Shelter is the first priority, followed by fire. Water is next, and after that is food."

"Why are water and food so low on the list?"

"Don't know so much about Vulcan physiology," I told her, "but human bodies can go days without water, and weeks without food."

"I believe Vulcans are of a similar capacity," she said as she kept pace with me. "Though I believe I might be better suited to a desert climate than a tropical one."

"It'll be the humidity that hits you hardest," I said as I pressed further inland. "Back in Arkansas, the humidity could get so high it was hard to go outside in summer. Like hitting an invisible barrier as you step through the door. Good thing is though, those trees down by the shoreline look like coconut trees."

"They produce food?"

"Of a fashion, and water," I told her as I continued to scout the land. "Lot of work to get to, though. The nut is inside a fibrous rind that you'll need a knife to get through. The water is inside the nut, which when picked when fully ripe will be almost the size of a skull. Inside the nut's shell, is a white material that's very tasty."

"I'll be trying it," she said, still not showing any emotion. "Do you think it'll be long before we're found?"

"Probably," I told her. "Depending on how far off course we are, and how good the ship's sensors are that come to find us, it could be weeks, months or never."

"Never?" she said, so low I almost didn't catch it. I turned back to look at her, seeing the shock finally register on her face.

"My dad served on the Enterprise once. Told me a story of some Klingons that had crashed on a planet and weren't found till one of the bridge crew found them while he was on vacation," I told her, thinking of a story about when Lieutenant Commander Worf brought the children of a Klingon cruiser back to the Enterprise. Or so the story went. "I have a feeling we're going to be the same way."

Her face was a perfect picture of shock, and even her mouth fell open. "You mean we might never be found? My race lives several hundred of your years."

"I'm sorry then. Us humans might make it into the sixties without medical help," I said and her eyes filled with tears. "Hey, it'll be alright," I said, trying to comfort her. "That's over fifty years to train you in how to survive."

"Never mind," she said, closing her eyes and breathing deep. "It's a cultural difference that you wouldn't understand."

"Try me," I said as I went back to scouting the area. "I was actually a good study of xeno-cultural relations."

"This is a more personal matter," she said as she followed me into the trees. "And not one I am suitably versed on."

"Um, alright," I said as we emerged into a clearing. There was a clear running stream nearby, which seemed to be fed straight from a nearby hill. That told me it was probably some kind of spring, which meant good water. There were plenty of trees around for me to use as a log cabin, which meant long term shelter was handy, and branches for a short term shelter was possible. That left food.

"T'feri, right?" I asked her, and she nodded. "I'm Kevin. What do Vulcans eat?"

"Mostly fruits and vegetables," she said, as she looked around. "We can eat meat if there are no substitutes available, but it is, unsettling, to our sensibilities, so I'm told."

"So your told? You've never eaten meat before?"

"No, I haven't," she said, following me as I looked around the clearing. "These coconuts you mentioned earlier will likely be my first choice for an evening meal."

"Well, I'll be glad to show you how to clean them," I said as I unslung my duffel bug, and sat under a tree. I was still wore out from all that swimming.

"Are we going to be making a shelter here?" she asked me as she looked around.

"Yep, got a few ideas. A log cabin is a great long term shelter, but it's very difficult to make. Lean-to is better, if more open to the elements," I explained. "Later, if we're able to find large animals to skin, I can make a tee-pee."

"What are these shelters?" T'feri asked me.

"Essentially, a log cabin is we cut these trees down, then stack them parallel to each other to form a square."

"It would make a rudimentary building," she agreed. "How does one make the roof?"

"Several lines of thought on that one. Easiest way is to use sod over a framework. Simple to do, really."

"Sod?" she asked.

"Dirt and grass, usually cut like a carpet and laid out like a lawn. It makes a somewhat watertight seal as long the bark doesn't leak."

"It sounds complicated," she said as she laid her duffel beside mine.

"It can be, definitely a two person job," I told her. "If I had the equipment, I could build one with solid wood slats, which is essentially slabs of wood laid over each other. Not as difficult to build, but I lack the splitter for it."

"Understood," she said, looking around again. "What about a lean-to?"

"Simplest form, sticks laid out and tied together to form a wall leaned up against something to provide a safe space underneath it. One wall is the basic needed for survival from rain."

"And if you have more walls?"

I nodded in approval. "You become more insulated from the elements. If I could find the trees in the proper alignment, I could build an entire home from a lean-to, then build the roof later."

"Out of sod?"

"Sod is good," I said. "It's easily accessible and blends into the surrounding area. Means fewer animals are likely to find us."

"Won't they stay away? My teacher once said they are as afraid of us as we are of them."

"Maybe," I said, studying her. I knew Vulcans didn't express emotions, but seeing her shock earlier told me she still had them. "But that's in cases they learned to fear us because of our superior abilities. Most of the time, we're just another source of food for them."

"How do you know all this?" she asked me, as she stood there looking at me.

"I just come from Earth, my species home planet," I explained to her. "Been spending my time there with my uncle, and he'd take me out camping in his holodeck. He never liked to use a tent, so any time we'd go out and camp we'd build our own. Sometimes it was a sandy beach, some times it was deep in the forest. He taught me it all."

"He had his own holodeck?"

"He was a holonovelist," I said, getting back on my feet and examining the lower branches. "He would create these holonovels for children. Got to play 'em myself when he was busy, show him the errors or where he could make improvements. Once I got the program done early and I ran a generic program to provide me with a forest with a stream. Started building me a camping sight there. Saved it, and when I had time, went back to it."

"How much time did you spend there?" she asked, as I investigated a set of trees not far from the stream.

"A long time," I said, figuring this would be our campsite. "Probably several months, all told."

"How far did you get?"

"I lived in it, just about," I said, smiling as I pulled some grass to let it float away on the breeze as I judged the wind's direction. "Grandpa would often make it storm in the middle of the night. That taught me the importance of getting the sod and bark right on the roof."

"So, in this regard, you have mastered it somewhat?" she said.

"Kind of," I admitted. "Learned it mostly by experience. Some things, though, I'm very much unaware of."

"Such as?"

"What plants are and aren't poisonous, basic first aid, and what plants are what," I told her. "And with your different physiology, I don't know what may affect you and not me."

"That is where I can help you," she said to me as she looked around our surrounding area. "I can tell you these are that these trees are dense, and will support a large amount of weight. They don't have any flowers, so possibly no fruit, probably relying on some kind of nut for germination."

"Well," I said, after finishing my examination of the local area. "What type of tree it is and how it propagates is not a concern right now. It looks strong enough, and there's enough trees in the immediate vicinity to make most of what we need," I told her as I scanned the lightly wooded grove in which we were in. "Biggest regret I'm going to have is my grandpa is not likely to see what I built."

"Where do we start?" she asked me, as I knelt down to get the hatchet and knife from my duffel.

"We start by cutting some of these limbs, making the first stage of the lean-to, then we can move on to sleeping arrangements," I said, handing her the knife. "You get to strip the branches down, while I hack them off the tree."

Together, we started building our first lean-to. I used a large low branch to make the spine of the top of the lean-to, and after measuring out what limbs we had, decided I was going to make the roof of the lean-to about three meters long. That would give us a good two meter of space at our side to help stay dry, assuming we slept head to head. I could fan the lean-to out to give us walls on three sides, which would make it more secure from rain.

That was a real worry for me. I didn't know how long, if ever, the rainy season was away. Some tropical islands on Earth could get hit for months on end with non-stop rain. Not knowing how long I had kept me working hard even though my muscles felt useless. It wasn't until I fumbled under a limb that T'feri forced me to rest.

"If you injure yourself," she told me, "you could cost us our lives."

So, I rested while she worked on stripping more branches with the knife. We had made a pretty good dent in the overall progress by the time the sun started to set. At least we had a shelter laid out before the sun completely set. Once my muscles felt better, I took the shovel and dug a small pit about three meters in front of the shelter, making it about thirty centimeters deep and about half a meter across. Once it was dug, I dropped in a large piece of dried wood then began filling it with small dried sticks. Now I just had to get the fire going.

Placing a piece of dried wood in the bottom of the hole, I piled on smaller branches and eventually moss on top of that. Then taking the datapad out of my duffle, I opened the back up and shorted across the battery to create a spark, which leaped out and started the moss to smolder. Doing it several more times got the moss to start burning, and I babied the fire along until it began to burn the small sticks.

T'feri sat opposite me, and the fire built between us illuminating us in its soft light as the sun faded. We had the shelter done, but it could still use some type of bed, plus it needed some waterproofing for when it did rain. We still needed to secure food and make sure the water was safe to drink, plus make some defensive weapons to protect us against predators and so I could hunt. I also needed to check on shelters, but expanding our lean-to was probably the best idea.

I felt my muscles ache as I sat there, and knew I had been pushing it hard, maybe too hard. I was definitely going to feel sore in the morning. Looking at T'feri as she rubber her upper arms, I figured she had likely not ever worked so hard in her life either, which was going to make it harder on both of us.

Deciding to test what she did know, I decided to ask her some questions.

"Hey, T'feri," I said, gaining her attention. "Did you ever spend any time away from technology?"

"No, I haven't," she admitted. "I'm beginning to wonder if such training would allow me to hone skills I might now require."

"Such as?" I asked her, prompting her to keep talking.

"You do realize that we are both juveniles, correct?" she said, and I nodded. "How long do you think our current clothes will last before we outgrow them? Three months? Four? Then what?"

I sighed, understanding her concern. Luckily, dad's holonovels were going to save my bacon. "You can thank my dad for this one," I told her, watching her quirk an eyebrow at my statement. "Most of his holonovels were old eighteenth and nineteenth century Earth stories from it's more primitive days. Stories covering the expansion of humans on Earth and its various cultures. Some of what I learned there was how to make leather and turn it into clothing."

"Where would you get the materials for leather?" she asked.

"Animal skin," I said, using a stick to spread the burning sticks around to increase our fire size. "When I can find some animals, I can skin them. I already have all the tools I need."

"I do not want to disappoint you, but I have seen no evidence of animals since we arrived," she said, and that brought my head around. She was right, I hadn't seen any evidence of animals, large or small. "What will you do then?"

"Well, anything that has a skin will do," I told her, thinking of the time I saw stingrays with dad. "I can use any leather we skin to make moccasins, which will protect our feet from hazards, like our boots. I might need a few tries on a dress for you, never made clothes except for myself."

"I will do what I must," she said, hugging her knees with her arms to conserve her warmth. I wasn't so flexible, so I tended the fire to build it up more. "Modesty is an emotional response, and not one I will let come between me and my own survival."

"Great," I whispered, and looked back at our makeshift dwelling. "Well, that means this next piece of information won't get me slapped," I said, and she rose up to look at me with a raised eyebrow. "If the temperature drops below what you can tolerate at night, slide in next to me. As long as we stay in close proximity to each other, we can share body heat."

"That is, acceptable," she said as she hunched back over her knees. "But why not sleep next to the fire? Or move the fire closer to the shelter."

"Too much risk of burning it down," I told her. "If it happens at night, we could get burned with it. I don't know about you, but I don't want to risk getting injured, even if we have access to some modern healing equipment."

"I can understand that," she told me as she placed another stick on the fire, allowing it to grow bigger. "Our supplies are limited, but we should be able to recharge the tricorder with solar energy."

"Which is good," I said, following her logic. "We can check for toxins and keep a catalogue of what makes us sick."

"Agreed," she said, looking into the fire, unblinking.

I stretched tired and aching limbs, then looked back at the lean-to. I was so tired I didn't mind not having a soft bed to sleep in. I stood, moving to the lean-to and slid in on one side of the structure. We hadn't made beds yet, so I slept on the ground, using my dried out clothes for a pillow. It wasn't the coldest of nights, being in the low twenties, but cool enough I didn't take any clothes off but my boots.

I was just about to sleep when I felt T'feri snuggle in next to me. "I figure the temperature will drop with the night," she said, once she settled herself in. "It's already cool for my biology."

I re-situated myself, cupping her body in tight with mine so we could share our body heat. "It's fine," I said, whispering it in her ear. With her body tucked in warmly next to mine, I soon drifted off to sleep.


	20. Sid Meier's Pirates Self Insertion 01

"The goddess herself, bound in human form...fury or favor, you not be knowing, but when the mood strikes her, and it's her favor she bestows on a lucky sailor, well, you've heard... _legendary_." Hector Barbossa

Self Insertion – Sid Meier's Pirates! - Disney – Dreamworks – Pixar – Pirates of the Caribbean franchise

Chapter 1: Hope and a Dream

It was a fluke I ended up in Miami during a convention on RC and model boating with time enough to enjoy it. By nature, I'm a truck driver hauling freight from any city in the United States down the highway to another city. The hours suck, the pay's terrible what with every cop and politician trying to stick their hand down your wallet and it makes for lonely hours.

I also get no time for the hobbies I like, or even recreational time to just lay back and enjoy time. Most of my free time is in a sleeper, a box five foot long, seven foot wide and seven feet tall, resting from the fourteen hour day I just had and preparing for the next one. So, for fun I end up watching movies or reading, which is fun in and of itself but the lack of choices after months on the road make life dull. I can quote you Master and Commander, or any of a number of other movies from the nineties, but it doesn't satisfy the longing I have for the sea.

Yea, I'm an odd one. Standing here on a pier watching the various ships as they sailed the water in front of me was calming on my spirit. Oh, I wished I could sail a ship like some of the ones I saw. Brigs, frigates, schooners, fluyts, galleons, and sloops of various sizes sailed with their sails unfurled and flags of various nations, kingdoms and historic pirates on display from their mainmasts made me feel at home.

So it was that I was so lost in the moment that I didn't see the red haired woman come to stand beside me. It wasn't until a ship-of-the-line I had been eyeing went behind her that I even noticed her. She was wearing loose-fitting tan capris and a striped white-and-blue tied on crop top shirt on her overly petite hourglass frame. She was a looker alright, five foot five and not a hundred pounds sopping wet. Her breasts were fairly ample and she had a lovely heart shaped butt and her skin was fair and creamy.

She give me a smile as she cocked her hip, then turned and walked away, her hips sashaying with each step. I watched her go, as she disappeared back into the crowd, then turned back to the boats as they sailed. I could never catch a woman like that, not as a down and broke truck driver. I might be six foot tall, well muscled and dark haired, but my muscles were covered with enough fat that people didn't even think of me as being strong and most people shunned me for it.

I didn't care much what people thought though, as I had long ago quit caring about what other people thought of my physical appearance. I knew I wasn't the best looking guy in the world, but in my long sleeve western shirt, blue jeans and cowboy boots, I could intimidate the best of them. I often wondered if that was because of the clothes or because of the persona I seemed to emulate as a cowboy, even though I never wore a hat.

Turning back to the water, I watched the ships sail for as long as I could. It was eventually my hunger that forced me to leave the pier and I headed back into the convention center in search of a meal. I ended up at an eatery featuring recipes and staples on sailing ships and was directed to a picnic like table and given a wooden keg to sit on. Food here was just what was served and had just gotten my food when that red head from earlier sat across from me.

"It' s not everyday that someone turns me down on an offer," she told me as I bit into a piece of hard tack and began to chew while eyeing the bacon. They had bacon back then?

"I'm smart enough to know when I'm out of my class," I responded after swallowing my bite of hard tack. "Besides, I came to the pier for the ships. Lord I wish I could go back to when men sailed the seas on real ships and not these steel monstrosities of today."

"They lack a certain charm," she admitted. "I wouldn't take you for a man of the sea at first."

I shook my head, smiling at a thought. "I find a peace in it," I admitted. "It's like watching them earlier, it calms something in me to watch a ship sail silently across the water."

"Have you ever thought about sailing in real life?" she asked me, and my smile turned bittersweet.

"I have, but I got into truck driving instead," I told her. "My seas are concrete and earth now, and I traded silent wind for rumbling diesel. It doesn't calm me like a ship, but anymore its a fantasy."

"Sea fantasies are my business," she said with a wicked grin. "What would you give for a fantasy to come true?"

"What would you want?" I asked back, as I continued to enjoy my meal. It was filling me up fast, and soon I would be wandering the area again, but as I looked at the young lady in front of me, I couldn't help the stirring of lust in me. She was definitely the type of woman I longed for with her perfect figure and dreamy looks, and I was certainly now interested in fulfilling my personal fantasies with her.

"Nothing, really," she said with a big smile on her face. "You're the kind of person I like to do things for, true men of the sea. I bet if you were a pirate in the 1600's you would have ruled the Caribbean."

I smiled. She was teasing me! "Best thing is to know how to approach an enemy," I told her and she leaned in close and put her head on her hands as she smiled at me. "Approaching them from their downwind allows you to pounce quickly with several shots as you tack back and forth in their blind spot. Also, giving them a round or two of grapeshot when you get close enough will take care of any enemy on the deck allowing your boarders a chance to take the main deck and helm with little difficulty. Since that's usually where the captain is, the rest of the crew will give up once he's dead or captured as they have no idea what to do without him."

"You sound ferocious enough," she said, finally extending her hand. "But what will you do when you go board to board with a bigger ship? Surely there's no way to win?"

"There's always a way to win," I countered. "And it might cost you your ship in doing it, but if it means the difference between losing a brig to acquire a ship-of-the-line, it'd be worth it. Depending on the circumstances, the best thing to do is to allow it to catch up or run right along its railing and allow your men to storm the deck in force instead of trying to go gun to gun with her; it's a fight you'll lose."

"A surprise attack then?" she asked and I nodded.

"Especially if neither side has the wind at their back," I said and she leaned in closer. "But don't ever try to turn back to fight if they have the wind behind them, especially with a competent commander. He just has to lay back and pelt you with his broadside until he breaks ya."

"So, want your fantasy fulfilled?" she asked with a sly wink of her eye as she extended her hand.

~December 12,1659~

Thinking I was about to get lucky, I reached over the table and took her offered hand and stood up, just to get knocked back down again. Everything about my situation looked different, primarily as I was no longer in a restaurant, but on the deck of a single masted ship with gaff sails. Even my clothes were different, as I was no longer wearing the jeans and long sleeve shirt I had in Miami, but a pair of blue cloth trousers and white cotton shirt. I had on a pair of buckled shoes, and around my waist was a belt

The man who stood over me was dressed in purple with a large felt hat and he sneered at me. "Back to work, swab," he ordered, then kicked me again so that I fell into a bucket of water.

Enraged at being treated so callously, I charged the man and we both fell amid a group of men who were on their knees as they swabbed at the deck. Several more men drug me from the man in purple, and several more drew cutlasses and pointed them at me. I quit struggling as I saw the cutlasses aimed at me, but movement behind those men caught my eye.

More sailors were pulling swords, and with a yell charged at the men who were holding me. I stomped on the instep of the man on my right, then used my strength to throw the hobbling man to the deck. The man on my left let go, and scrambled for a weapon. A nearby man tossed me a cutlass and I snatched it out of the air just as the man who had been holding my right arm got back to his feet. The man went wide-eyed at seeing the cutlass and I slashed it across his chest to leave a deep bloody gash. The man fell to a knee and I ran the sword through his chest, killing him.

Turning back to the melee in full swing, I saw the man in purple, who my brain now recognized as the captain, run up a set of stairs to a small cannon. Fearing that he would turn it on the crew, I ran after him and got there just as he was about to light the fuse. I slashed at his wrist, but the captain yanked his hand back before my blow landed. He then threw the candle towards me, and I ducked which gave the captain enough time to arm himself with a cutlass of his own.

Facing off sword to sword, I dueled the captain while the crew fought on. Slash, parry, feint, dodge, slash; me and the captain seemed evenly matched as we fought across the poop deck. It wasn't until the captain feinted left, that I got the upper hand as his foot slipped on a rope that was laying loose on the deck. Falling to the deck, I pounced on the downed captain and kicked his cutlass from his hand, then put the point of my own cutlass to his bike. Sighing in defeat, the captain spread his hands in surrender.

Looking around, I saw the crew celebrating over the corpses of other sailors. Raising my own the crew cheered loudly, I gave a huzzah with the rest of the men. I looked at each of the cheering men, my face going slack as I realized we had just successfully mutinied against the captain. Several men came up the stairs with a length of rope, and they lashed the former captain's arms together. I personally wanted to puke.

"Alright, everyone," a man with a drooping mustache said as he waved his arms for everyone to calm down. "We need to elect a new captain!"

"I say we elect that man there," one of the crew said, pointing a finger at me while I tucked the cutlass in the belt around my waist and re-chewed my hardtack.

"Aye!" another man said, and the men cheered on. The man with the droopy mustache waved his arms and calmed the men down again, then turned to me.

"What be yer name, Captain?" he asked me.

"Owen Hunt," I told them and they all cheered.

"Orders, captain?" the mustached man asked.

"Clear the deck and bury the dead," I said, and several of the men began to move the dead men from the main deck. I went to check the navigational charts, finding a pin in it marking our location just northwest of the Caribbean. Apparently, we were about a hundred miles out from the first islands.

I felt a man looking over my shoulder and finding the mustached man watching me, decided to ask him his name. "Anthony Stiles," he replied to my question. "I wasn't too happy with the way things were going with Burch, anyway."

"Me either," I said as I studied the map. "Any recommendations for a port-of-call?" I asked him and he shook his head as he studied the map with me. I was hoping he had something in mind for helping with our current situation because I had nothing.

"Saint Eustatius is closest, but Danish owned," he said as he looked at our map. "I don't much care to consort with the Danes, and the nearest English port would be Antigua."

"But an English port sees us hung as pirates," I told him. "We mutinied against the proper captain and owner of this ship and took it for ourselves. I don't much like doing a jig on a hempen stage," I told him, using the old naval euphemism for being hung

"Nae, me either," he agreed. "At least with a Danish Letter of Marque we won't face the gallows."

"Set our course then," I told him and his drooping mustache seemed to pick up a bit. "I'll have you as Quartermaster, if you want the position."

"Aye, that I do," he said as he moved to the helm. My nerves calmed somewhat, now that I had an out, but I needed to know what I had so I could do battle with it.

Looking out over the ship, I decided to tour the vessel, assessing my new ship and its capabilities. Standing at the edge of the raised poop deck, and looking out over the main deck, I counted the eight cannons we had, and shook my head in a forlorn way. It wasn't enough to take on a big ship, but it would allow us to fight any merchant vessel we came across, but we did have room for four more cannons along the rails.

As I moved along the ship, I couldn't help but feel thankful to the red haired woman who made this a reality. She had indeed given me my fantasy, but I couldn't help but wonder why and at what cost. I mean, yeah, I didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but it did make me wonder as I moved down to the berthing deck and where the dead were being prepped for burial.

The dead men were wrapped in their blankets, while the crew worked to cocoon them inside. I had never seen the process done before, and I watched for several minutes without anyone noticing me. I eventually moved on, going down one more deck to find the primary hold and extra rigging. It was so small it gave me a sense of claustrophobia and I headed back up to the berthing deck and moved aft.

It was here I found the galley, and a small single cell for the brig. The former captain was just now being escorted in by a pair of sailors, and I watched as they undid his hands and removed the rope from his arms. He sneered again at me, and I smirked back. Once the men had exited the brig and locked the door on our former captain, did he address me.

"I'll see you hang for this," he growled.

"That's why I intend to head for Saint Eustatius and get a Letter of Marque from the Danes there," I told him and he charged the bars. "Once I have my Letter of Marque, I'll turn you over to the Danes."

"You lily-livered deck ape!" he roared. "I'll get revenge on you for this!"

"Try," I said calmly, even though he rattled the bars in his bid to escape. "Until then, you will wait calmly in your cell or I'll tie a pair of chain shot to your legs and drop you over the side."

The former captain quit rattling the bars at that, but his eyes would have burned holes in my soul if he had but the power as he glared at me. I left him to stew in his hate, going back up to the main deck to see the crew had started bringing up the dead and were forming them into lines along the railing. It was a somber affair, and many a man seemed teary eyed at the prospect of burying a friend at sea.

I moved aft, entering the Captain's Cabin, mainly as it was mine now, to take stock of what I did and didn't have. The cabin itself was small, only about ten feet long and the width of the stern wide. There was a twin sized bed in the starboard aft corner, a dresser/wardrobe combination next to it. At the foot was a sea chest, open to reveal a few personal items that belonged to the former captain.

On the port wall, there was a large map with various countries colored differently. It wasn't until I studied it a bit that I recognized it as a political map and that any colonies or territories a kingdom had were likewise colored as their main country. The Caribbean had only four shades in it, and I traced their ruling kingdoms back to Spain, Great Britain, France and the Danes, the last who only had a handful of colonies in the New World.

I had only begun to search when Stiles knocked on my cabin door. "Enter," I said, remembering I was captain now and that he likely wouldn't enter without direct permission.

"Sir, crew are asking if you want to lead services for the slain sailors," he said in a somber tone.

"I suppose that's my duty now," I said, as I eyed the dusty Bible near the door. "I've never led a service before, nor attended one aboard a ship."

"It doesn't matter," he told me as he handed me the dusty Bible. "Open it and read some out of it to assuage the fears of the men and their poor souls. Nary a one will stand and admit it, but we all fear the coming hell that awaits us for what we do."

"Don't believe in redemption?" I asked him as I thumbed it open to see the familiar King James Version I grew up with.

"I do, but not right now," Stiles said with a chuckle. "As a boy, I attended church with my ma. It was there I learned the Commandments and I still remember to this day the sixth through tenth ones."

"Stealing, adultery, murder; what is life without the simple things?" I joked with him.

"Mighty unbearable in one's youth," he admitted with a chuckle.

I finally found the book I was looking for, the book of Psalms and flipped it to the twenty third chapter. For burying someone, I could think of no better passage to read at a burying as I've heard that one read at many a funeral myself.

"I think I'm ready," I told him, and we headed outside. The crew were lined up along the beam of the ship, the cocoons of the dead lined up along the rail. Every head was bowed as we approached, and Stiles took his position at the other side of a board to be at the head of the line.

"Gentleman, we gather here today to lay the souls of these men to rest in the arms of our Father," I told them as I opened the Bible to the spot I had found earlier. "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want," I said as I began reading the familiar verses aloud for the crew. Each man was respectful while I read, a few raising their heads slightly before dropping them again. They were the ones I suspected needed this the most, and I didn't stop until I finished the last word and added, "Amen."

With that one word, Stiles tipped the board over the board and dumped the dead sailor into the sea. The other crew gathered along, each body getting two still living sailors to tote it to the board to be dumped feet first into the sea. In no time at all, the crew had the dead in the water and the board they had been using was taken below decks and the other climbed into the rigging to tend to the sails.

I moved back to the poop deck, the highest furthest aft deck on a ship and watched the men move about the rigging. I should admit, I knew nothing about actually sailing a ship and was watching the more experienced men around me sail it. A few things I did know though, was to keep an eye on the heading and to always mark noon. Problem was, I didn't see a clock anywhere, so longitude was going to be a problem, never mind our latitude.

Checking the navigational desk near the helm, I found a variety of tools whose use I could only guess at, a large leather-bound book, a black glass bottle with cork stopper which would be the inkwell, and several feathers with sharpened ends. One thing I did find in the desk that I did know anything about was a collapsing telescope in a box. Pulling it out and extending it fully revealed it to be a two draw, meaning that there were two brass extensions coming out of the main body of the telescope. It wasn't all that powerful, maybe four times more powerful than the naked eye, but it was better than nothing.

I scanned the horizon with it, not finding anything to note. Collapsing it back to its single tube, I put it back in its box and took out the leather book. I opened it to find the ship's ledger, and that the ship's name was ' _Badger_.' Pulling the inkwell and a feather out, I flipped to the last page. The last entry was marked 12 December, 1659, and was about failing morale making me snicker. Yeah, I say it fell to mutinous really fast.

Dipping the pen, I marked in my best cursive a new entry using the same date. With a fresh dip, I marked in, "Crew mutinied against captain. New commander is Captain Owen Hunt. Setting course for Saint Eustatius." I looked it over, letting the ink dry before shutting the book. Stiles was back at the helm, and I shut the inkwell away with the book.

"How's the wind?" I asked him, sending my gaze into the sheets.

"Following nicely," he said as he looked at the compass mounted behind the wheel. "We should be making good time to Saint Eustatius."

"Aye, be nice," I told him. "Any family back home to write to when we make port?"

"Just a sister," he said, then smiled as his eyes grew distant. "I write her every Christmas. She leaves me letters at an inn in Plymouth, and I return to pick them up when I can. She lives in Devon with her husband, he's a farmer there."

"Noble profession for a landlubber," I said, and Stiles began to laugh.

"That it be," he said. "I been there once, about a year ago now. She was fat with child then, and she glowed with health. Ye any family to return to?"

"No," I said with a shake of my head. "I lost my parents not too long ago," I lied, not wanting to reveal I was from the future. "Been a wanderer ever since."

"So no one to mourn you when you pass," he said and I frowned. It was definitely a nerve with me, that I didn't have any family to mourn me, even in my own time. My parents were truly dead, killed in an accident in New York.

"Unfortunately not," I said, as I scanned the water. "I been looking to get married myself, and starting a family, but my wandering has left me no time to court a lady," I told him, and meant every word. I really wanted to get married, but the life of an over-the-road truck driver left me no time to get to know a woman better.

"Best of luck to ye on that," he said, changing the subject away from its grim topic. "Ever met a girl worth marrying?"

"Once," I told him, my voice growing soft. "Back before I began my wandering there was a girl in my hometown. She was short, blonde, fiery temper but she never had eyes for me."

"Seen that type before," he said as he adjusted our course. "All too common for sailors like us."

"Aye," I said, a comfortable silence falling between us. The sun began to set, and not knowing where my sea chest was or even where my hammock was hung, decided that it would be best if I didn't make myself look foolish. "Do me a favor Stiles," I said as I walked down the stairs to enter the Captain's cabin. "Have my chest brought to my room."

"Aye sir," he said, and I entered the cabin. Glancing around, I decided to pack up the old cabin's personal affects and packed them in his chest. The only thing I didn't pack were items that I figured were instrumental to the operation of the ship.

Two crew soon knocked on the cabin door, and I let them in. They carried a chest between them and set it down near the door. "Take that chest down to the hold," I said, pointing it out to them. The men nodded politely, and carried it out with them.

I closed the door, then knelt down to examine my chest. Opening it up, I pulled out two pairs of pants, some socks, a belt and several shirts. In fact, it was the same items I carried in my duffle bag in my semi. A small box inside my chest turned out to carry a few bars of soap, a tin marked shaving soap and a brush, straight razor, and small mirror.

The mirror I used to inspect my face, finding it younger than I was in Miami. It was still me, just a me back in college. My eyes were still the same hazel, and my hair was still it's usual dark brown color. I also still lacked facial hair, meaning I shaved with the shaving supplies I carried.

I set it all aside, then pulled out several books, some of which were badly worn. Looking at the inside title page, I found it was the complete works of Shakespeare. Another book I cracked open was an English version of Don Quixote, while the others proved to contain various poems.

Setting the books aside, I looked in my chest again to find a blanket covering an object in the bottom. When I pulled the blanket off, I was shocked to see my old guitar laying in the bottom. I hefted the light instrument out, strumming it lightly to find it was still in tune though the strings were different. I laid it on the bed, before returning to my chest to check its contents one more time. Another box caught my eye and I pulled it out. The box contained a wooden recorder, which I had learned to play in fifth grade thanks to a mandatory music class. Putting it to my lip, I started to playing "Go Tell Aunt Rhody," finding that the sound was much as I remembered it being.

After I finished the song, I put it away as it was getting dark in the cabin. The last thing in the chest was a miniature wooden barrel with a leather pouch tied over the end.. Setting my recorder back in it's box, I pulled the mini barrel out and undid the pouch to find it was nearly full of coins. I didn't recognize the style, but I had a small fortune of them. Had to be hundreds of them.

Deciding it was better to just get some sleep to the lateness of the day, I put the recorder in its box back in my chest. Wrapping the guitar, I put that back in the chest as well to make sure it wasn't damaged. The clothes I put away in the dresser, along with my shaving kit. The only thing I could think of was that all the items I carried in my truck that had historical counterparts had been put in my sea chest. Loved my recorder, though maybe not as much as my guitar.

With everything settled, for the time being, I sat on the bed, which was comfortable at least, and slipped my shoes off, then my socks. Never having been one to strip further than that in case I had to get out of the truck in a hurry, I laid back in the bed and covered myself in the cover. In no time at all, I was fast asleep.

Chapter 2

13 December, 1659

~Owen Hunt~

I was startled awake in the middle of the night by the quietness of it all. It took me a minute to realize that the reason I didn't hear the rumble of a Detroit Series 60 motor was that I was about three hundred twenty years before the first such motor was made. Feeling rested, I put on a fresh pair of socks, leaving the others to air and put my shoes on.

Stepping out of my cabin, the crew was busy trimming the sails, keeping them full of wind as we sailed along. I walked around to the poop deck, finding Stiles still at the helm though his eyes were drooping heavily. I shook my head, even as his head drooped forward. It was a classic case of overwork, but I couldn't help but smile as I'd been there too many times myself. The poor guy had likely stayed up all night piloting the ship for me, and he needed his rest.

"I admire you for your dedication," I told him, making him jerk awake once again. "But go lay down before you drop to the deck."

"Aye, sir," he said as I took the wheel.

He went below, and I handled the wheel for awhile, keeping us headed southwest. Several hours into it, I handed the wheel off to another sailor and began to check the area around us for reefs. An hour later, it was my look-out in the crows nest that signaled land. Going to my navigational charts, I studied the island we should be coming up on, and how best to approach port.

In the end, I decided to keep the wind on our left so that when we passed the bottom point of the island, we could put it to our backs. "Helm, steer southeast, and keep that island on our starboard side."

"Aye, captain," he said, steering left. The island grew closer, so I moved towards the bow with my spyglass and kept scanning our path for reefs and sandbars. Several times I saw the capping water and had the current helmsman steer us around it.

Near midday, we seemed to pass the southeastern point and we turned north west, and continued to follow the island's waterline until we saw a ship passing at a distance in front of us. I scanned it with my spyglass, seeing an orange flag I didn't immediately recognize. I knew the Spanish flag was yellow, and English was red and white, so figured the orange flag was likely Dutch. That put us not far from the port, which was good. I wanted to get there.

As the shadows started to grow again, I could make out the silhouettes of a few buildings in the distance through my spyglass. Soon, the port was easy to see, and we started to sail right in. I had the crew begin to lower the mainsails just as soon as we did, and Stiles arrived on deck just as I had them drop the last of the sails and we bumped dock and a man stood there with a ledger.

"Ship and captain's name?" he asked me, opening the ledger on a post and pulling a quill and ink bottle from a pocket.

"Badger," I told him, remembering it from the log. "I am Captain Owen Hunt."

"Welcome to Saint Eustatius, Captain Hunt," he said as he continued to dab his quill in ink and write in the ledger. "Purpose of your visit?"

"To acquire a Letter of Marque," I told him, deciding to be truthful in my intentions and also glad that we had found the island we sought.

"Then you'll need to see Governor Fitzherbert at his mansion," he told me as he finally stoppered the ink and put it away. "Enjoy your stay, captain."

"Thank you, good sir," I said as the guy closed his ledger and left. I turned back to my crew and nodded to them.

"Alright, lads," I started, unsure of what to say or do. "We're in for the night. If you have coin to buy drink or women with, feel free to go ashore but be back in the morning! If you get yourself locked up in jail when I set out, I'll leave you behind. Questions?"

No man did, and I led my crew off to the pier. A group of women stood by the way into town, most holding signs that I think were names of ships. Those that didn't have signs came by asking my my crew if they had heard of the ship their man sailed on, and that they were overdue to return. I walked on, with no woman asking me any questions probably as they sensed I was the captain and wasn't to be bothered.

A man in a fanciful suit was just getting out of a carriage as we neared the road, and he held up his hand. "Are any of you men the captain?" he asked.

"I am," I said, approaching him as my crew continued to walk by. "Captain Owen Hunt of the Badger."

"I am Governor Fitzherbert's personal assistant, Simmons," he said as he held the carriage door. "He is currently very busy today and has sent me to bring you to his mansion to speak with him. If you would, sir."

"Thank you, Mister Simmons," I said as I climbed into the carriage. Simmons climbed in behind me, and they drove me to the mansion.

As we stepped out, I could see that the term mansion was probably a loose term in the past, as it was really nothing more than a very large house, maybe a hundred by a hundred fifty with gardens surrounding it. Simmons led me inside, up the stairs to a study where he stopped at the door, then motioned me inside.

"Governor Fitzherbert will be with you shortly," he said as he took a post just outside the door.

I nodded, going inside and he shut the door behind me. Several bookcases lined the wall, some filled with books, others with rolls of paper. Just outside the door, a brown haired woman in a pink and lavender dress sat to an easel, painting upon it and occasionally dabbing more color onto her brush.

She didn't notice me until I moved closer, and I could see her better. She was petite, maybe in her thirties or early forties with laugh lines around her lips. Her dress also had golden flowers sewn into it, but not a single splotch of paint marred it. She smiled at me, then nodded to her painting.

"Beautiful, isn't it," she said, her voice light and airy.

"Yes, it is," I said, nodding in appreciation. "You do good work."

"Are you here to see my husband?" she asked me as she continued to paint. I nodded my head yes, and she continued on. "Well, Governor Ryder should be here pretty soon."

"I thought the governor was named Fitzherbert," I told her and she laughed cheerily.

"Everyone does, though I don't know why," she told me which added to the confusion. "It was Eugene Fitzherbert that they hung, not Flynn Ryder. He was my beau for over a year, you don't think I would know the difference?"

"I'm sure you would, Miss Ryder," I said as she laid the easel aside and dropped the brush in a cup of water. "Heading somewhere?"

"It's getting about time for the boys to get out of school," she said, as she cleaned her brush with a rag. "I like to read to the younger ones. Reminds me of my two boys."

"Ah," I said, smiling at her. "The young have left the home and it makes you lonely."

"Yes," she said, blushing at the thought. "I do get to see my boys. Maximus, the oldest, is an officer in the army, and Pascal is in the Navy. You never seen two different boys, but both know to come home to see their mother when they pass this way and they write all the time."

"They were raised well, then," I told her as she set her paints to the side.

"They were," she said as we went into the study where she selected a book off the shelf. "Well, I need to go, mister..." she said, trailing off as she searched for a name.

"Hunt," I told her, bowing and taking her proffered hand to kiss it. "Captain Hunt of the _Badger_."

"I'm Rapunzel," she said as she held the book close to her bosom. "Well, fair winds and a following sea, captain," she said, offering me the traditional parting words as she left me to wait for the governor.

I didn't have long to wait as another man soon entered the room. "Hello, captain," he said, as he passed me to go sit behind his desk. "It's not often we get an English ship in our port. Care to explain?"

"We mutinied against our captain and we are loathe to sail into an English port for fear of being hung," I told him simply. "It is my desire to seek a Letter of Marque to lend legality to our actions."

"Well, that's quite easy," he said as he opened a drawer and pulled out a leather roll and laid it out. Unrolling it, I could see it was a Letter of Marque. "Name?"

"Captain Owen Hunt," I told him and he wrote my name on the document. He then signed it, then took a red stick of wax and began to melt it before letting it drip on the bottom. Once he had a small circle of wax built up, he then reached into a box and pulled a seal and stamped it into the wax. Putting everything away, he then rolled the document up and handed it to me.

"There you go captain," he said, and I took the document and held it under my arm. "I must advise you though in the future to sail under a Dutch flag if you're going to be taking ships for the king. You may also fly a buccaneer flag, but it has to be under the Dutch flag."

"Thank you, Governor Fitzherbert," I said, then shook my head. "Or is it Ryder?"

"I see you've been talking to my wife," he said with a chuckle. "It's Fitzherbert. Flynn Ryder was my captain and her beau back in 1644, when he was hung by pirates for attempting to rescue her. Yes, we do look a lot alike, but Ryder was more of a show-off and loved his theatrics. He also was big on putting bits of wax on his nose to make it look bigger than it was."

"So, why does she not realize the difference?" I asked and he sighed and relaxed into his chair.

"Because, she was badly mistreated by them," he started to explain. "There was nothing I could do to stop them from hanging Ryder. I was one of the only ones not taken captive, and the only member of the shore party that returned. It also meant that I couldn't just stroll into their headquarters to get a closer look at what was going on, but I've seen enough men hung to know he was dead. I had to run to escape a patrol, and didn't make it back until it was almost morning and they had partied themselves into a good drunk and passed out where they lay.

"That's when I found her," he said, wiping at his eyes. "She was in a grass hut in the middle of the 'festivities,' laying naked in a bed with a large pirate. I stabbed him twice in the back, then woke Rapunzel and got her dressed. She thought I was Flynn come to rescue her, and ever since, she's refused to call me Eugene. She even made me marry her, as if I were Ryder, though her father didn't want to. It's the only time she's ever threatened to harm anyone, and it was only to harm herself.

"Her father relented, I guess for his daughters sake," he continued on as I stood there in silence. "I do like her, care for her even, but it strains me sometimes having to pretend I'm Ryder for her. Most everyone that deals with us know the story, and people have said I need to lock her away, but I can't do it to her."

"It's a terrible thing to do to a person," I told him and he nodded his head as he dabbed at his eyes. "The young boys she was going to read to?"

"Oh, they'll be fine," he said dismissively. "In fact, they're in the best hands on the island. She's not dangerous, even if she can't handle the truth about Ryder."

"I'm sorry," I told him and he turned to look out the doors where Rapunzel had been painting.

"Me too," he said. "I met her once, when Ryder was still alive. We used to have this bar called the Ugly Duckling in Saint Martin that our crew hung out in when we were in port. Ryder brought her to the bar one evening and she stayed for a few hours before they left. She commented then on how we look alike, but we're not related.

"I guess I'll continue to care for her," he said, his voice growing sad. "At least we had two great kids together. Some things worked out at least."

"One last thing before I go," I said, and the governor turned to look at me. "We never killed the previous captain. I have him locked in our brig."

"I'll send Simmons back down with a detachment of soldiers," he said as he stood up. "We'll have him imprisoned. You see, we got a war going on with the English, the Spanish and the French. So unless they're flying a Dutch flag, they are fair game. Just bring me the ship's log of any ship you can't bring back to get credit for the sinking. We had a few unscrupulous privateers in the past try to claim more than they actually sank. They got drunk and caught, and I had them imprisoned for five years."

"I hope they learn their lesson."

"Me too," he said as we walked out. "See, we award promotions to captains who take ships of the enemy. Privateers often try to make a living taking the shipping of the enemy and sale their cargo in friendly ports, earning both gold and a career. The truly great ones can even earn titles of nobility from the king, and even gain the kings ear. It also doesn't hurt that some of us governors have beautiful young daughters looking for a wealthy man to wed. My counterpart in Curacao has a lovely young daughter who's almost ready to marry. A fine young lad like you would have a good chance if you can prove yourself a capable privateer."

"Thank you for the advice, Governor Fitzherbert," I said as we approached the door. Simmons was waiting at the carriage, probably to take me back to the docks.

"Advice, as always, is free," he said with a smile. "It's following it that costs you a hand and an eye. Simmons, take Captain Hunt back to his ship. He has an English captain in his brig that needs to be imprisoned until we can send him back to Saint Kitts."

"Yes, sir," he said then opened the door to allow me into the carriage.

"Safe travels, captain," the governor called, before going back in the mansion.

With nothing left to do, I climbed in the carriage with Simmons climbing in behind me and we went back to the docks. Simmons just pulled a pair of guards from their post as he followed me back to the ship, where I released the former captain to the guards. His chest in hand, he walked quietly off my ship and to prison.

"Thank you, captain," Simmons said, as he too departed, and I went into my private quarters to stow my new Letter of Marque in my sea chest.

I eyed the barrel of coins, and not knowing their value, took a large double handful with me in my pocket. I could only hope that they were the equivilent of dollars in my time, and were universally accepted wherever I went. Setting the coins in the leather pouch that normally covered the barrel, I ended up tying it off on my belt, as my pants had no pockets, and walked back to the deck.

It seemed odd just leaving the ship without anyone guarding it, so I made up my mind that I would only briefly hang out in town before I returned to guard it myself. It would also allow me time to figure out my next move, some of which I thought about on my way into town.

With a Letter of Marque, I was now a recognized privateer for the Dutch, though my ship sailed an English flag. I had to remedy that, so I stopped by a merchant and purchased a proper flag to be delivered the next day. The coins I carried turned out to be pieces of eight, a Spanish coin that was indeed accepted nearly everywhere, and the flag only cost me five pieces.

Moving on, I found a sign for a tavern and headed to it when movement in the alley right outside caught my eye. It turned out to be a tall, long brown haired woman who was bent over wiping her mouth with a cloth. I moved a bit closer, seeing she had been puking on the ground. She straightened when my shoes sent a rock skittering, and she cocked a hip and smiled at me. She was dressed in a purple dress, with a bit of cleavage showing and bare arms. I thought it immodest for the time, but said nothing.

"Fine gentleman you are," she spoke saucily while smiling at me, completely hiding the fact I could see what she had for lunch on the ground behind her. "Rushing to help a lady."

"You seemed to have it under control," I told her, remembering the women of my time not liking it when a man tried to interfere with their problems, whether or not they needed or asked for it.

"You're right, I can handle it," she said as she moved closer. I backed up into the street, allowing her room, and she turned to face the sign and sighed. "So, headed inside where you can buy a woman's time or headed back to your ship."

"I was headed inside," I told her, making her stop and look back at me. "But if you're willing..."

"I'm willing," she said coming back to stand beside me. "Need forty pieces, but I'd be yours all night."

"Forty pieces, huh," I said, thinking it might be a bit high. Not that I knew what the price was for buying a ladies attentions for the whole night, but forty seemed high. "If you needed that many coins, I would have thought you'd have a man to provide for you."

I knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say as she dropped every ounce of her saucy attitude and sagged against the wall before looking at her feet. "I did, once," she finally said softly. "Did you see the women holding signs when you left the dock?"

"I did," I told her, remembering the women well.

"They're looking for news of their husbands and sons," she told me, still not looking up. "Up to a month ago, I was among them, looking for news of the _Dreamer's Delight_."

"I'm sorry," I said, knowing the news she got must not have been good.

"Thank you," she said, finally looking up with a tear in her eye. "I got the word from a sailor that the ship had been attacked by Captain Hook and was sank with no survivors."

"Any children?" I asked and she shook her head.

"No, and maybe it's best that we didn't," she continued on. "I couldn't imagine trying to raise a child without him, now that he's...not..." she tried to say before she began crying.

I held her close, allowing her to vent her frustrations into my shoulder before she pushed me away. "You're a kind enough man, why are you getting your fun in a place like this?"

"I'm too much of a wanderer to settle down, just yet," I told her and she smiled. "So, if you're willing, why don't we go back to my ship and enjoy the night?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm going to need a few pints of rum before we get to the fun part," she said, and I smiled at her, knowing it hurt to lose your loved ones. I never had a taste for alcohol myself, it always tasted terrible to me, but I'd not let hre sell herself to me while she mourned her husband.

"Well, first we go to the merchant down the way here and get us a barrel or two, then we head back to my ship," I said and she smiled and linked her arm in mine.

"Lead the way, sailor boy," she smiled as she gave me a playful pat on the rump.

"My name is Owen Hunt," I told her and she gave me another playful pat as we walked down the street.

"Megara," she said, keeping close beside me.

We got a barrel of rum, mostly because Megara said she didn't need but a few pints and my protests that I wouldn't need any at all, which Megara threw her eyebrows up at. Heading back to my ship with a barrel on one shoulder and Megara under the other, she laughed at seeing my small sloop.

"Reminds me of the _Dreamer's Delight_ ," Megara said as she saw my ship as we walked down the dock.

"How many cannon does she run?" I asked her and she smiled fondly as she ran a hand over a cannon as she passed.

"Sixteen," she said, as I kept us walking to the Captain's Cabin. The barrel wasn't all that heavy, not to me at least, but it did hurt the shoulder after a while. "He had a hundred men following him and Phil to sea on his last trip out."

"I don't have but eight cannons right now, but I can field twelve, I figure," I said, and Megara turned to look at the ship once more.

"Hmm, well if you happen to be any good with your privateering, maybe one day we can do it on something bigger," she said snarkily, and I couldn't help but feel it was a jab at my manhood.

"I got something bigger for you," I replied as she opened the door and stepped inside.

Her breath caught momentarily as she caught sight of the bed, but she turned and let her gaze go to other places. I walked around her, setting the barrel on my desk where the spout would be easy accessed with a cup. Megara found a mug that the former captain kept and poured herself a full one, drowning most of it in one go after looking at the bed again.

"You know, you never settled on the price," she said, refilling her mug.

"I believe you said forty pieces of eight," and she giggled.

"Well, that's what that scrooge of a landlord wants for rent this month," she said, then sighed again before taking another slug of rum. "Rents due in three days and I'm currently short that much."

"I'll pay you the whole forty," I said and she hiccuped her rum back into her mug.

"I didn't know they made so much," she finally said.

"First time selling yourself?" I asked her and she nodded glumly.

"I come from a good home in Greece," she said, and leaned up against the desk where she looked at the floor. "Hercules, my former husband, married me and took me away from all that. Brought me here. He's paid for everything for me, and I've never had to do this. That's why I was so upset at walking into the tavern to sell myself to some drunken sailor, and why I'm drinking now."

"Building up the courage to climb into the bed?" I asked and she gave a hiccup that she drowned in rum.

"I'm a big girl who ties her own sandals and everything," she said, trying for the sauce she showed earlier but it fell flat to me. She looked at me before sighing again. "Okay, so maybe I didn't use to make my own way in this world. But I never had to beg for it either."

"True," I said, moving forward to take the mug from her hand. "But there's no bravado in rum. It might dull the pain tonight, but tomorrow is the day you'll wake up and have to deal with yourself and what happens tonight."

"And what happens tonight?" she asked, looking into my eyes.

"Only what you want to happen," I said, and she gave another hiccup and sniffled as if her nose was running.

"Promise me one thing?" she asked, her voice wavering a bit. "Promise me you'll be gentle?"

"Sure," I told her, looking into her hazel eyes. I could be gentle for her, watch me.


	21. Hogan's Heroes - New Kommadant 01

**Author's Notes** : I know I have the 'Great Escape' from Stalag 3 happening in September/August 1943, which didn't happen until March 1944, but I needed a problematic camp that would need Klink's supposed 'expertise.' Stalag 3 was such a camp, and only one character from that movie will feature in this story.

 **Chapter 1**

=o=0=o= Stalag 13 =o=0=o=

August 1943

=o=0=o= Outside of Barracks 2 =o=0=o=

Colonel Hogan stood with his men, sharing a cigarette, when he saw the car pull up to the gate. He was actually shocked to place it as a Rolls-Royce, which seemed out of place in Germany. It wasn't the blue-gray of the Luftwaffe either, but a highly polished turquoise. The feeling that he was dealing with a guest intensified when the car passed him, and he saw a golden flower silhouetted on the car's doors.

"A Rolls-Royce Phantom Three," Newkirk said, eyeing the car in surprise. "What the bloody hell is it doing here?"

Hogan didn't answer, concentrating instead on the car as it stopped in front of the Kommadant's office. He watched as a man stepped out of the driver's seat, his uniform nothing like the rest of the German military. It was green, not black or grayish blue. He opened the door for his passenger, who was almost a half a head shorter than their guard, and Hogan was almost sure it was a woman. She wore the same colored uniform, but hers was trimmed in gold braid. She hid her platinum blonde hair with an officers cap, then walked into the Kommadant's office.

"Kinchloe, get the coffee pot out," he told him. "I want to know what's going on here."

"Right away, colonel," Kinchloe said, going inside. Everyone followed Kinchloe in but Hogan, who took one last look at the car. It meant trouble, but what kind?

Shaking his head, he went inside the barracks then into his personal quarters. Kinchloe already had the coffee pot out, and he could hear the static of Klink's office as it picked up the rattle of paperwork as Klink worked. Soon, the sound of a door opening came, and Sergeant Schultz's heavy bootfall.

"Kommadant Klink!" Schultz said, seeming to pronounce each syllable as he spoke as he announced their guest. "A General Kongelig to see you."

"Show him in," Klink said cheerily. Hogan knew the Kommadant was eager to suck up to the brass, which made his job of espionage easier. Klink wouldn't turn anyone away, and often let details slip to try and impress people.

"It's her," the general said, her voice stern and commanding as she spoke. "I am General Elsa Kongelig of the Arendelle Luftstyrke, its nascent air force."

"What can I do for you, general?" Klink said, seemingly unfazed.

"Your orders, Colonel Klink," she said, and Hogan could practically hear the paper as it was unfolded.

"Colonel Klink...transfer command...Elsa...stay...advise...TRANSFER!" Klink finally roared, finding the one word in the document he didn't like. "But I don't want to go to the Russian Front!"

"Who does?" Carter snarked to make the rest of the group laugh.

"If you will read the rest of your orders," Elsa said, taking charge of the situation, "You will find you are being transferred to Stalag Three in Poland. They've had a recent mass escape of over seventy men, many who have yet to be captured. It seems your expertise is required there."

"There's never been a successful escape from Stalag Thirteen!" Klink said happily, regaining his composure since he was being recognized for his flawless record.

"A fact that the German High Command recognizes," Elsa assured him. "You are to stay here a week and train me in the operation of a successful camp, finalize your affairs, and then transfer to your new command."

"What about me, general?" Schultz asked her. "Am I to transfer too?"

"No, Sergeant," she told the man. "Your expertise in the prisoners will be invaluable to me, as well as your knowledge of the local area should any try to escape."

"Danke, general," Schultz said, taking the compliment as it was intended.

"So, where do we begin, Colonel Klink?" Elsa asked the former Kommadant.

"I'll, uh, introduce you to the camps senior POW," he said. "Schultz, bring Colonel Hogan in at once!"

"Jawohl, Colonel Klink," the Sergeant said, then closed the door as he left to fulfill his task.

"Alright, shut it down," Hogan told them, even as most of his men were already leaving to take up tasks to hide from Schultz what they were doing. LeBeau picked up his sewing on a shirt that had been ripped, and Kinchloe, Newkirk and Carter sat down to enjoy a game of cards, each man drawing several off the top. They were just in time, because Schultz came huffing through the door just as they made it look like they were doing nothing.

"Colonel Hogan!" Schultz called, just as soon as the door was shut. "Colonel Klink wants to see you."

"What does the Kommadant want with me, Schultz?" Hogan asked the guard.

"We have a new Kommadant!" Schultz told him. "A woman general from Arendelle!"

"Woman?" Newkirk said, drawing a card from the pile. "Probably has the face of Goering."

"Nein, she is very beautiful," Schultz said.

"And I've never heard of Arendelle," Hogan told him.

"It's a small island off of Norway," Schultz said. "About three thousand square kilometers, and the food is terrific."

"How do you know so much about it?" LeBeau asked him.

"My wife and I honeymooned there," Schultz said. "The Queen had just given birth to her first child, and everyone was celebrating."

"Well that's reason to celebrate," Newkirk said, raising his glass of water.

"So, boy or girl?" LeBeau asked him.

"Girl, but they never named her while we were there," Schultz said. "Now, if you don't mind, Colonel Hogan, the new Kommadant is waiting."

"I'm coming," Hogan said, giving a wink to his men. "Be right back guys."

=o=0=o= Kommadant's Office =o=0=o=

"So, you flew the Heinkel bomber?" Elsa asked him, as he she listened to Klink recount his war record. "I've yet to fly one. I did get to fly America's B-17. It is an impressive aircraft."

"Really?" Klink said, looking impressed.

"Arendelle has purchased five," Elsa told him, "But they have yet to deliver them. I guess that's what we get for ordering war materiel just before a country goes to war. A slight oversight, perhaps."

"So, tell me about the Luftstyrke, general," Klink asked her. "It seems to be your personal project."

"It is," Elsa told him. "I managed to convince the king that a proper air force would help secure Arendelle from attack, though we've counted on our naval forces since time immemorial."

"I understand that, being an island nation," Klink told her. "How did you managed to convince your king, though?"

"A simple game," she told him. "Using our strategy map like a board game, I commenced an attack by Norway using their forces. I decimated Arendelle's forces in attacks that could have occurred within a day, leaving our borders wide open. After that, I had unfettered access to build and train the Luftstyrke, and I've been it's general since inception, answerable only to the king."

"Only to the king?" Klink said, aghast. "No High Command? No Council? If you decided to purchase a hundred Heinkel bombers..."

"Only King Agnarr could say anything against it," Elsa told him, as the door opened up to reveal the Sergeant leading a prisoner wearing a leather jacket, a pilot's jacket if she wasn't mistaken. His isignia identified him as an American Colonel, and he seemed to have the cocky attitude of an American pilot, standing in front of her with his hands in his pockets and only offering a half hearted salute that never even touched his brow.

"You wanted to see me, Kommadant?" the man asked, almost as if he were rudely interrupted and was forced to be here.

"Indeed I did," Klink said, stepping between Elsa and Hogan. "Colonel Hogan, might I introduce your new Kommadant, General Elsa Kongelig. General, the senior prisoner of war officer, Colonel Robert Hogan."

"General," Hogan said, giving her a nod. Elsa stiffened at his blaise attitude, then properly saluted the man.

"Colonel Hogan," she said, once she she dropped back to parade rest. "How has captivity treated you?"

"Well, the Krauts don't treat us too badly," he groused. "But with the winter coming on, I'd like to request more hot water for the men and maybe a little extra fuel for the barracks heaters, especially at night."

"I will take that under advisement," she told him.

"Uh, general," Klink said, facing her. "The camp has a short supply of fuel oil. Any extras to the prisoners will have to come from somewhere, most usually the guards and moral is low enough as it is."

"That also I will take under advisement," Elsa told him.

"If you can, I'd also like to request extra rations of food for the men, maybe allow us to start a garden next spring?" Hogan asked her, but Klink spun on Hogan.

"So you can get access to tools?" he said, shaking a finger at Hogan. "I warn you, Hogan, I will train the general very well so she can continue my fine tradition of no escapes!"

"Swell," Hogan groused.

"If I may, gentleman," Elsa said, hoping to de-escalate any coming arguments. "Why don't we postpone this until dinner? I'm sure the camp cook can prepare something that will be enjoyable."

Hogan and Klink shared a look and both started chuckling. "I volunteer Corporal LeBeau to prepare the meal, Colonel Klink," Hogan said, after he resumed some composure. "I'd rather have a meal that won't poison me."

"If the camp cook is that bad, why not replace him?" Elsa asked the pair.

"He is the best we can get," Klink told her. "The best cooks are taken by top military and government personnel. Better cooks go to important wartime operations. We, with our prisoners, get the runt of the litter, and have to make do."

"And he feeds the entire camp?" Elsa asked him.

"Unfortunately," Klink groused. "I'm surprised the men haven't tried more often to escape."

"Hard to escape on the rations they give us," Hogan pointed out.

"I wasn't talking about the prisoners," Klink muttered.

"I have a cook coming on a transport tomorrow," Elsa told the pair. "I will see if he is amenable to preparing meals for the entire camp."

"That'd be great for everyone," Hogan said, almost stunned. "Well, if you'll excuse me, the men were wanting to practice their glee club."

"Dinner shall be at 1900 hours," Elsa told him. "Until then, you are dismissed."

"General," Hogan said, giving her another half hearted salute as he left the room.

"How about a tour, general," Klink said after Hogan left the room. "We can start with the coolers."

"Lead the way, Colonel Klink," Elsa told him.

=o=0=o= Barracks 2 =o=0=o=

"Well, colonel, how did it pan out?" Newkirk asked Hogan as he entered their barracks.

"As well as can be expected," Hogan told them. "She's amenable, strict, and very serious. Going on the off hand comment, we got more guards coming, from her side."

"So what are we doing?" Newkirk said sourly.

"She's hosting a small dinner party tonight, me, her and Klink," Hogan told them. "Her bearing might be nothing, but we're going to have to play our cards close to the vest for a time. Figure her out. We might need to arrange some escapes to make her look bad."

"Need volunteers, colonel?" Carter asked.

"Sure," Hogan said, nodding.

"I'll go," Carter said, volunteering himself.

"As will I," LeBeau said. "Our dogs will never track me."

"Then it's settled," Hogan said. "Kinch, get on the radio as soon as you can. We need everything we can about this new general and Arendelle."

"Will do, colonel," Kinchloe said.

"Now if you'll excuse me," Hogan said moving for his private quarters. "I gotta press my dress uniform."


	22. A Knight's Tale 2: Frozen Knight 01

Prologue:

The sun was high in the sky as two mounted riders faced each other from opposite ends on a jousting field. One rider, dressed in green and yellow, loomed large to the smaller rider in blue. Both extended their hands and pages handed them long wooden lances tipped with coronals. Each rider gripped their respective lance, tucking them in tight to their custom-fitted armor. Both were waiting, their horses impatient.

Soon, a page appeared with with a flag. He stepped to the middle of the field, lowering the flag. The page glanced to each rider, getting a nod that they were ready. When the page raised the flag, both riders spurred their horses into movement, charging down the lists towards the other. The lances were lowered as well, as each rider aimed for their opponent.

The larger rider was more sure of himself. His lance was speared towards to his opponent with deadly accuracy. It never wavered, being held tight to his body. His horse charged forward, his eyes and body locked on his target.

The smaller rider wasn't as sure, the lance not as steady. It was clear to all watching that smaller rider was still in training, but today there would be a hit; they wouldn't veer the lances off as these two had before. Still, with lance tucked in tight and the tip wavering a bit, no one was sure what would come next.

Almost faster than anyone could see, both riders tilted their helmets back just as they connected. The bigger rider's lance connected with the chestpiece of his smaller opponent just as he himself was hit on the helmet.

Both lances broke, splinters flying in all directions. The larger rider rolled back in his saddle as his horse was temporarily staggered, getting stunned by the solid blow to his helmet. The younger rider was also staggered, but recovered just as fast as the larger rider and stayed in the saddle and both proceeded to the end of the lists.

At the end of the lists, both riders handed their ruined lances to pages, before turning to each other. Again, each rider extended a hand, and a page filled it with a lance which was tucked in tight to their armor. The flag was lowered between the riders again, and after nodding their readiness, had each rider charging down the field again.

Both riders kept their lances on target, with the larger rider raising his aim to increase his points on his opponent. The smaller rider's aim was just as true, and soon both riders connected their lances to their opponent's helmet, the lance breaking after staggering their horse. Both riders were forced to absorb the impact by rolling back in their saddle, but neither fell off their horse.

At the end of the lists, both riders turned their horses around and stared hard at their opponent. They swapped their broken lances for replacements, then waited for the flag. Once the flag was raised and the riders were charging on their third and final run, those watching knew the larger rider was up to something as his horse veered slightly away from the lists. It headed back in almost as soon as it veered away, but the slightly different angle was something he was counting on. He aimed high and close on on his opponent's chest, hoping to knock the inexperienced rider off their horse with his hit as he passed. His plan nearly worked, for as both lances connected, the young rider was forced to absorb the impact by rolling back, but not along the length of the horse, but the width of the saddle. This nearly forced the rider out of the saddle, but quick thinking and a desperate grab for the saddle kept the young rider from falling into the dirt, the broken lance forgotten.

Both rider's horses continued on to the end of the lists, where both riders now looked to the scoreboard. The larger rider had four white flags unfurled there, but the younger rider had six, meaning he'd lost to his young rival. He removed his helmet, revealing fair hair and blue eyes on a square face, common in this country. He had a scar over his right eye, from a knife fight he'd gotten into in a battle. He was well muscled, and his eyes went to his opponent.

Like the larger rider, once the helmet was removed from the smaller rider it revealed fair hair and blue eyes, but on a heart shaped face. This rider was no where near as muscled, but the face lacked any scars. Every page and squire present bowed his head in respect to the rider, but not for the deed of besting Arendelle's best jouster.

No, they bowed their head in respect to the royal in their midst; Princess Elsa, the future queen of Arendelle.


	23. Star TrekFrozen - Lessons Learned

Chapter 01

August 22, 2379, Time: 08:16:04

Stardate 56639.3

"Just breathe," I said quietly rode the turbolift down to the transporter room. I had a mission briefing at Starfleet Headquarters in fifteen minutes with Admiral Janeway. I was to take command of the USS Providence, an Intrepid class ship currently docked in Spacedock in orbit, and had a full aviary loose in my stomach making me queasy.

It wasn't just that I was about to get a promotion, but that said promotion was to captain and it came with a command. I was only twenty-five! Hands down I was the current holder of the youngest captain in Starfleet ever, younger than both Kirk and Picard, and I was only a first officer for a little over six months.

Still, I knew my strengths, and among them were political skills that enabled me to get noticed and standout from the crowd. It was the only basis I could even fathom for making captain, which I was sure would evaporate as soon as someone saw my age. I was still a commander until the pip was placed on my uniform and my hand was shook, then they were stuck with me, though I could always end up at a desk job or freighting cargo and passengers until they thought I was stable enough for riskier duty.

Sighing, I tried to exhale all the stress I had been under since being relieved of my duties as executive office a mere week ago and playing musical ships as I navigated my way back to Earth. I hadn't even had time to pour over all the files for my senior staff and resorted to looking for the best I could get my hands on.

Leaving the turbolift and entering the conference room, I saw the motley crew I had gathered for the first time. The closest was Lieutenant Commander Jane Porter who would be my science officer. She was considered among the best in xenozoology, and more than competent in the other sciences.

With her was my executive officer, Commander Kidagakash Nedakh, who simply went by Kida as her name was a mouthful. Kida was from a relatively new member species to the Federation, called the Atlanteans, whose race was visually similar to human except that they all had white hair and lived for centuries.

Past them was my tactical officer, Lieutenant Li Shang, talking with my helm officer Lieutenant Jasmine Raja. Shang, as Li was his family name, was a highly skilled warrior who came highly recommended while Jasmine was a known hotshot with a flare for pushing the envelope.

Again, I couldn't help but remind myself that in choosing them, I had merely taken the top marked candidates and not ones I particularly liked for any reason, which brought me to my next pick, Ensign Ariel Waters, who was destined to be my operations officer.

Over by the window was another pair of individuals I knew; Lieutenant Commander Rapunzel Corona, my Chief Medical Officer and my Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Merida Dunbroch. With them was a redheaded officer in operations gold whom I recognized by her signature white streak, which seemed to settle my stomach that my sister was present.

The last pair in the room were Admirals Janeway and Paris. Having met both before, it was easy to recognize the pair. I was also surprised that none of my officers were taking the opportunity to converse with the pair about advancement. Personally, I never missed a chance to mingle with command personnel, which led me to my current predicament.

Becoming a captain.

"Ah, the guest of honor," Admiral Paris said to garner everyone's attention as I put on my best smile.

"Hey, sis," Anna said after spinning around and seeing me.

"Anna," I said as I gave her a nod. It seemed to be a cue of some sort as everyone began to approach, my officer's and Anna forming an impromptu line while Admirals Janeway and Paris stood at the end.

"Give the word, captain," Merida said in a thick Scottish accent as I shook her hand. "Looking forward to serving with ye."

"You as well," I said as I moved on, greeting each of my new officers.

"Hey," Anna said as I finally reached her.

"Enjoying your shoreleave?" I asked her and she giggled a bit.

"Been a blast," she said with a big smile on her face. "After this I report back for assignment. I'm hoping for a deep space assignment."

"Stay in touch, alright?" I said as I gave her a hug.

"Always," she said as I released her.

"Time to step forward and claim your prize," Admiral Janeway said as I turned to face the admirals.

"I'd hardly call being called on to protect the Federation and explore space a prize," I dryly told those assembled.

"But being the youngest captain to ever sit in the captain's chair has to weigh on your mind some?" Admiral Paris asked me.

"Yes, sir," I said, not even trying to lie even as my smile fell to a grimace. "But a hallmark of a good captain should be listening to your crew and their more experienced advice. I know my strengths and weaknesses, but I have to figure a captain's best strength is coordinating their crew into a coherent unit."

"Well put," Admiral Janeway told me with a smile. "Even at such a young age you've already grasped the basics of command, and trust me, no amount of training will prepare you for the responsibilities that come with the territory."

"As such, we're putting a lot of faith in your ability to take command of the Providence and make her an effective science vessel," Admiral Paris told me to make me smile again.

"So, Commander Elsa Winters, by the power vested in me by Starfleet Command, I hereby promote you to the rank of captain," he said as put the pip in alignment with my other three. My new crew gathered around me as Admiral Paris shook my hand, but a young man in operations gold came running in looking rather frantic.

"Admiral!" he shouted as he rushed towards us. "Commander Rourke has stolen a ship and is headed for Antares!"

"Antares?" I asked them and Janeway and Paris shared a look.

"Top secret project is housed there," Janeway finally informed us. "If he gets his hands on it..."

"He can start that war with the Klingons," Paris finished. "It's what he was ranting about before I relieved him of duty, yesterday"

"We don't have any ships!" the man exclaimed. "He's just cleared the dock doors!"

"I'm sure the Providence is ready to intercept him," I said, hoping the ship was ready to travel.

"He's a dangerous man," Paris warned me. "He's a brilliant tactician, and he's completely unhinged. He will not hesitate to obliterate anyone who gets in his way."

"Be that as it may," I said as I stood at parade rest, "I'm sure I can bring him in with the Providence. It's one of the fastest ships in the fleet."

"Very well," Admiral Paris said as he tapped his comm badge. "Lieutenant Barclay, beam Captain Winters and her crew to the Providence, and signal spacedock to open bay doors. They'll be underway immediately."

"Aye sir," a voice just as I was engulfed in the transporter effect. I emerged from the transporter effect on a pad aboard the Providence, facing a black haired young ensign who came to attention at seeing us.

"Captain!" he exclaimed as I stepped forward from the pad.

"Computer, go to yellow alert," I said, making the various readouts change in response to my command.

"But we're in spacedock!" he exclaimed as I led my officers out the door.

"I'll get the warp engines online," Merida said as she broke off and went aft.

"So, what am I supposed to do?" I heard from behind me as we reached the turbolift that would take us to the bridge. I spun after hitting the control to summon the lift to see Anna was still with us. After a small sigh, I figured that Barclay had just beamed all crew in the briefing room that wasn't an admiral to the Providence, which meant Anna was now with us.

"Well, your not required to be anywhere, right?" I asked her as we waited.

"Not for a few days," she told me.

"We should be back by then," I said, contemplating it. "You're free to choose where you're going to be until then."

"You mind if I watch your first mission?" she asked as the doors on the turbolift opened.

"The bridge would be the best place to witness that," I told her as the others moved into the turbolift. I drifted backward into the lift with Ensign Waters as she passed, then motioned for her to join us. Anna was a blur as she joined us and the doors closed, and the lift took off.

"Captain on the bridge!" someone shouted when the doors opened, the few bridge personnel snapping to attention with my presence.

"Battle stations," I said, moving to take my spot on the bridge. My officers moved to their stations around me, with Kida taking her seat on my right. Anna stood on my left as the officers took their stations, then the ship's main power came on and restored the lights.

"Main power restored," Ensign Waters told me, telling me what I already began to suspect.

"Cast off all lines," I said, and Jasmine began to work over her console. "Are the main doors open?"

"They are," Shang told me.

"Helm, plot course and best speeds to the Antares system," I told my helm.

"Plotted and laid in," she said, then the viewscreen shifted as we began to move. It was with a momentary regret that I realized my helm officer was a hotshot and I had just given her an order that she could exploit to its full potential.

The moment the Providence banked over, a sudden surge of acceleration brought us around the central core to face the doors. The moment the doors were in view of the viewscreen, we shot through in a surge of speed that I was sure to get me a comm from the station manager.

"We're clear of the station and at full impulse," Jasmine told me calmly. "Going to warp."

"I have a ship bearing oh-five-six-mark-oh-four-three," Shang told me. "It's a Maquis raider at high warp for Antares."

"Intercept it," I said, and Jasmine nodded her head as she began to work the controls.

"Prepare for jump to warp nine-point-nine in three," she said, making me question having her as a helm officer again. "Two."

On one, the stars briefly blurred, as she jumped us to warp then brought us out almost as fast.

"Ship is off the port bow," Shang told me as he switched the viewscreen to show me the vessel. It was indeed a Ju'Day class freighter, commonly referred to since the Dominion War as a Maquis Raider. It looked battered, but they were deceptively strong.

"Stupid stunt," Kida muttered under her breath.

"But effective," Jasmine countered. "Their warp engines aren't refined enough to jump that deep in a gravity well. You want to catch up you have to sprint."

"An argument for later," I said, silencing the two. "What's their status?"

"They've raised shields," Shang told me.

"They're coming about," Ariel said.

"Shields," I said, watching as the raider spun to face us. "Lock on phasers and quantum torpedoes."

"Raised, locked and loaded," Shang told me, surprising me with his speed and precision.

"They're releasing something!" Ariel shouted from behind me. Whatever it was seemed like a silvery mist.

"Can you identify it?" I asked her.

"Probes of some kind," was her answer as she typed away on her command board. I turned to watch Anna join Ariel at her station as they began to work on the mist. "They've aligned themselves along our shields."

"Shields are holding," Shang said, keeping me apprised.

"They're just..." Anna started when the raider sent out a phaser beam. The Providence rocked as it connected, and I spun to face Shang.

"They've figured out how to penetrate our shields!" he exclaimed. "Direct hit on the engines!"

"Bring us about!" I told Jasmine. "Shang, return fire!"

"EPS grid failure deck eight!" he told me after we were rocked with another blast. "Phasers along the saucer are inoperable!"

"Torpedoes!" I turned and yelled to him, just as we were rocked again by their attack. Several consoles exploded, and it was only the fact I was turned to give my order that I saw Anna enveloped in sparks and plasma. The exploding console she had been near sent her flying over the railing behind my command chair, and she landed at my feet.

"Medical emergency on the bridge!" I shouted, hoping my CMO could save her as I knelt and cradled my sister in my arms. Rapunzel, having been with us since beaming onto the bridge, knelt by her with a medical tricorder. I looked into my sister's eyes, and the beautiful green in her irises dimmed.

"I'm sorry," Rapunzel said, closing her tricorder.

"No," I whispered. My sister couldn't be dead.

"Direct hit, their shields are down to eighty percent," Shang informed me as I held my sister. "Incoming!"

The Providence was rocked again as we were hit, but I continued to hold my sister's body.

"Our shields are down, warp core is off-line!" Shang informed me. I really couldn't care anymore. Being dead meant I wouldn't be without my sister.

"Captain!" Merida's voice came over the intercomm. "I had to take the warp core off-line to prevent a warp core breach."

"Noted," I told her, my voice silent as I tried to think. I felt numb, like nothing mattered anymore.

"They're coming around," Shang said, his frantic voice reminding me that Anna would have tried to protect her crew if she were in my shoes, even at the expense of her own life.

"Target their engines with quantum torpedoes, one second intervals, and continue firing until their shields are down," I said calmly. Shang counted out the torpedoes, but I just knelt there holding my sister's body.

"Their shield's are fluctuating," Ariel said.

"Lower the torpedoe warhead's yields to collapse their shields," I said, my voice calm even in the high stress situation.

"Their trying to escape!" Jasmine told me.

"Incoming hail!" Ariel said, but I just shook my head.

"No response," I told her. "Probably just a stall tactic anyway."

"Shields are down," Shang told me. "I just beamed the crew off the bridge."

"Double the security forces in the brig," I told him, lowering my sister's body to the deck of the bridge. "Send a security team over and secure their vessel and put a tractor beam on it, then take us back to Spacedock."

"Your sister's body?" Rapunzel asked as I stood.

"Take it to he morgue," I told her as I turned to my ready room. I needed some time alone.

How was I supposed to find joy as a captain now without Anna to brag my accomplishments to?

To whom would it even matter? As a captain, it was expected for me to maintain a level of professional distance from my crew. I had no other family left on Arendelle III, my own parents having died in a shuttle crash years ago.

What did that leave me? An empty room? A trophy case that no one would ever see?

"I think we've seen enough," a gruff voice said, bringing me out of my numb state just as the doors to my ready room opened to reveal a fruit basket sitting on my desk. "Computer, end program."

With that command, the Providence's bridge dissolved into nothing. With the realization that this was all a computer program, I spun to find Anna's body had also dissolved, and she was now standing with Admirals Janeway and Paris, plus a captain and various other crew I didn't recognize.

"I like her," the unnamed captain said. "She's the right kind of captain for the Bellona."

"We'll discuss it at the briefing," Admiral Paris said as Anna rushed forward to wrap her arms around me. "Senior officers, report to briefing at 1100. Captain Winters, report to briefing in twenty minutes."

"Yes, sir," I told him as Anna let me go. "I'll have questions then, but until then..."

"Dismissed," Janeway said, and everyone but Anna and I headed for the door.


	24. Why You Should Never Play With Magic

Prologue – Explaining Myself

Hmm, maybe I should begin by explaining I have an obsession. I love sailing. There I said it. How bad is it? Well, pretty bad. I bought my first sail boat when I was seventeen and was the laughing stock of Oklahoma when I took it out and fished off of it. Everyone said it was too much work, but I always loved it.

As I got a little older, and life intruded more and left me less time for my hobby, I acquired a very similar hobby that could be picked up and dropped without any difficulty. That hobby was model boating. Soon my personal collection even included some RC versions I bought. I eventually learned how to build them, and began adding power to my favorite sailing ships.

Time was always a factor though, and I relished every moment spent building. So when I broke my leg on some icy steps and had to be put on workman's comp, I was actually elated. Subsequent talks with a manager and co-workers revealed that one of the higher-ups family that had been hired hadn't been doing their job which was why the steps were icy to begin with, and I was given a large bonus so I wouldn't sue.

So what's a man to do with three month's worth of free time and a hobby addiction? I decided to build the end-all-be-all of models. A fully manned sailing frigate with RC capabilities. I had the personal knowledge to do it, the money to build it, and the time to do it before I had to be back to work. So I ordered the kit to build the USS Constitution.

While I waited on the kit to get to me, I had an idea. Instead of building the billionth model of a ship, why not build my own? Oh sure, I used the pieces from the Constitution as a basis to go on, but from the moment I began to assemble the hull, I already had some ideas for how to change it to make it my own.

The first thing I changed was the addition of an RC motor and propeller system, along with a rechargeable battery bank. The wooden hull took shape under my practiced fingers, leaving a hidden seam under the water line to take the bottom apart to get back into the delicate electronics should I need to recharge or replace something.

It wasn't until I began assembling the berthing deck that an idea struck me. What kind of ship would it be if I didn't have a full crew count? Why the idea of leaving the berthing deck bare hurt me so much I couldn't say then, but I added a full sleeping system of hammocks. A friend of mine made me small figurines to lay in them, as well as the figurines that would come later.

The deck above that, the gun deck, was another fun time. Since I was adding figurines around the cannons, I glued everyone's feet in place so they wouldn't be tossed around when I moved the ship. Every cannon on the deck had five men around it, two on each side, gunner in back.

As I moved onto the main deck, I let my hands alter the work to build my own custom ship. While I wasn't changing much of the layout on this deck, I didn't add the helm either. Once I had the cannons and figurines in place, I began to assemble what's called the half deck that stretched from the main mast to the rear of the ship. This deck was accessible by ladders and is often seen in older galleons, merchant marine vessels, or any of your typical pirate movie ship as the main bridge area where the helm is located.

Building the officers area just behind the bridge, I used clear plastic on the windows so my handiwork could be appreciated better. It was here that I put the officer's table for dining, along with a drafting table I put a map of the world on. More figurines of the officers went around the table, this time one figurine representing the captain with my face going at the head.

Above the now complete half deck I built the quarter deck. Here I placed two thrones, with doors to the Captain's Cabin between the thrones and the stairs to the poop deck. Once I had all the decks built, I rigged the masts, the stuns'l booms, and shrouds with figurines going about their day. My artist friend built the figurines here to grasp the ropes a bit, and I used small bits of glue on their hands and feet to make sure they never moved.

It was a beautiful model, and all told had five hundred men aboard at either their posts or in their hammocks. I had thirty thirty-two pound cannon on her gun deck and twenty-two twenty-four pound cannon on the main deck and I couldn't wait to test it since I was due back at work the following week, my leg now fully healed. I could at least say this expansive project kept me sane, and I wondered what people would think of it as I tacked on the final two pieces I had saved for last.

Since I had changed the Constitution's design, it didn't feel right calling it by the old warship's name, so I made a small sign that I affixed to the back that bore my new ship's name in bright red lettering, 'Blood Diamond.' The final piece was the flag I decided to fly. Since I wasn't building any known historical design, it didn't feel right putting a country flag on it either. So I made a black flag that bore a large red diamond shape with two swords crossed on it and affixed that above the billowing pennant.

Finally completed, I went inside the house for what would be the last time. The next day would change my life forever. That ship and I would become known across the seas and feared wherever we would go. But life is never without problems, as I would learn. And one thing I would learn, never play with magic.

Never.

Chapter 01 – First Magic

Waking up early that next morning, I was showered and dressed in a red western style shirt and jeans before the sun even rose. Stepping out to the barn, to get my ship, I found a hand written note sitting on the poop deck. Whipping my head around to see who might have broken into my barn, and finding nothing, I was left with a mystery.

I picked up the note, studying it. The paper seemed fragile, with differing shades of brown overall and thin enough to see light through it. Holding up to my overhead light, I read the words, 'To make your fantasy come true, say 'Pran m 'nan rev mwen'.'

I looked at the note in my hand, then to my model ship. It was a ludicrous idea, that I could sail my ship as if it were real. It had merit though, sailing my frigate around the open waters of the ocean. In fact, there were only a few things in life I could think of that were even better; marrying a beautiful voluptuous blonde nymphomaniac, having the Midas touch, or reading people's minds.

Since the other three weren't likely to happen in my lifetime, it was with a laugh I read the line when a bright flash of light blinded me. When I could see again, the sun was high overhead and the ship pitched gently with the waves. Around me were sailors dressed in early seventeenth century pirate garb, all carrying swords. Each man had the well-muscled look of a body builder, and they were all looking at me.

"Orders," one of the sailors said, his voice deep and utterly lacking any warmth as I looked at him, and the pistol he carried. If I was truly in my fantasy, this was my first officer.

If I were the captain, that is.

"Make sail," I said, and suddenly every man around me turned and headed for the shrouds. I looked up to see the sails drop and unfurl as the sailors did my building, the ship coming to life around me as I glanced around. "Helm! Put us before the wind!" I called and the man at the wheel turned it so the wind could better fill the sheets. The ship surged underneath my feet, and it was with pride I looked at the ship I had built sail with the wind.

"Are you the captain?" I heard a female voice call from behind me in perfect English. I turned to see a blond woman wearing a very familiar turquoise colored dress walking down the stairs from the half deck. Her round face was set in a determined mood as she walked towards me.

Sure that I had indeed been given my fantasy, I squared off with the familiar looking face and nodded. "I am. Names Captain Edward Black," I said, trying to be courteous to the woman.

"I am Queen Elsa of Arendelle, and demand..."

"Thought you looked familiar," I said, cutting her off. "Your sister is Princess Anna, former fiance of Prince Hans of the Southern Isles and currently in love with an ice cutter named Kristoff."

"You seem to know a good deal about me, Captain," she said coming to a stop in front of me and crossing her arms. "Maybe that means you can return me to my home?"

"I doubt that's possible, miss," I said, looking over hear rather attractive body.

"Why is that?" she demanded to know.

"It's a long story," I said, sighing as I said it. A thought occurred to me as I watched her face fall into an expression of shock. A voluptuous blonde nymphomaniac was one of my fantasies, so maybe whatever magic brought me here and made my ship real gave me a good looking blonde I liked.

"You can make yourself comfortable in my cabin if it makes you feel any better," I told her, watching her mouth fall open. "I'll be along later for the fun."

"I am a queen," she snapped, once she got over her shock. "I demand..."

"You aren't in a position to demand anything," I told her. "In fact, you are about one demand away from being thrown in my brig."

"I am not your plaything," she spat as she gave me a venomous look.

"You're welcome to swim for it," I said, gesturing to the rail of the ship. "Though we are likely miles from shore or any form of help."

"Don't mess with me or I'll..." she threatened but I cut her off by snatching a sword from a rack and pointing it at her.

"Freeze me?" I finished, getting the sword tip close to her throat. More of the sailors around me pulled their swords and pointed them at Elsa. "I know your powers well, and how to curtail them."

"Then you also know I can cause a storm?" she said, her voice softening but her eyes still held a fire of fight in them.

"Like the storm your parents sank in? Yeah, I'm sure you could," I said and she swallowed in fear as she started to understand her position. "How do you propose you survive the sinking of my ship in such a storm? Making an iceberg? Or a ship of ice? They'd sink or the waves would wash you off, and miss, in that dress you'd drown in under a minute."

"So what do you propose?" she asked, her voice soft, but her posture still stiff.

"You can either do what I say when I say it, or I can lock you in my brig until you become more pliable."

"And I suppose that means you'd want the right of droit du seigneur?" she asked, face twisting in disgust as she looked at me.

"First, I have no idea what that means," I admitted to her as she rolled her eyes.

"It means 'lord's right,'" she said, shaking her head at my stupidity. "You want the right to take me to your bed."

"Amongst other things," I said, and she looked at the floor as she shook her head.

"You ask too much," she said when she finally lifted her head. "I won't allow you to take me to your bed. I am the Queen of Arendelle, and intend to be married only to a royal worthy of my hand."

"So be it," I said, lowering my sword and turning to the crew. "Take her down to the brig and lock her up."

The crew looked at me for a moment before I realized I never built a brig. In fact, if the ship were an exact recreation of my model, there was likely a very useless engine in the depths of my ship. "Take her down to the bilge and lock her to the mainmast," I corrected myself and two of the crew lowered their swords and put them away.

"With us," one growled, and they led Elsa into the depths of the ship. I watched her go, her movements graceful as she walked down the steps with her dress in hand.

Thoughts of how exact my ship was remade had me worried though. There wasn't any water or food stores on my model, so did I have them here, and just where was here?

"First mate!" I hollered, and one of the crew in a blue jacket turned to face me.

"Yes, sir?" he asked, his tone just as neutral as any military man would be.

"How are our provisions?" I asked him as he came to stand in front of me at full attention.

"We have none, sir," he said as if we weren't surrounded by water and no land in sight.

"No water? No food? No shot or powder?"

"None at all, sir," he said and I just shook my head. I was going to die because my absolute recreation of a fully manned ship didn't have provisions.

"What's our position?" I asked, hoping we weren't too far from land.

"Thirty miles south of Port Royal," he said, and I sagged in relief. Thirty miles could be covered in a few hours, and once we were in port I could start working on basic supplies.

"Sail off our starboard bow!" I heard from above us and I looked to see the lookout pointing it out to me. The sails were barely visible, but it was definitely a ship.

Turning to my helmsman, I shouted, "Intercept it!" He nodded, then turned the giant wheel that piloted my ship and turned us toward the other ship. Turning back to my first mate, I committed the man's face to memory. "Name, sailor?"

"Don't have one," he said, his voice still monotone.

"Why not? Everyone has a name," I said, as I looked at the man and his strict military posture. It was only then that it hit me. The ship was based on a model, but the crew was based on figurines of people.

"I was not assigned one," he said simply as he looked at me with a vacant look.

"What are you?" I said, hoping his response would supply the final clue I needed.

"A Cyberdyne Systems tee-eight-fifty unit," he said as he stood in front of me and I nearly died from shock. A Terminator? God, I wouldn't even need the cannons.

"Are all crew a similar model?" I asked him, almost giddy with excitement. I had my own crew of Terminators! Way too awesome.

"Affirmative," he said, affirming what I was already thinking.

"Great," I said, trying to figure out my next move. Terminators could withstand even the best guns of my time with minimal difficulty, but backtrack a bit and they'd be an unstoppable force, especially against an army made up of swords and muskets. Terminators were strong enough to punch through a human rib cage, give them swords and they'd walk through the enemy crew with no problem.

Nodding my head on that line of thinking, I then decided to move on it. "Arm the crew with the best they can, and when we get close enough to board, subdue everyone."

"Affirmative," he said, turning to give orders to the crew.

"Oh, and from now on," I said and he turned back to face me with that military style stare, "Your name is Clark."

"Affirmative," he said, then turned and began shouting orders to the rest of the crew.

Walking to the bowsprit, I glanced at the oncoming ship. It would be awhile before we intercepted the vessel, so I continued my inspection tour. The cannons were all in place, each one a massive piece of artillery.

I went down to the gun deck, seeing the crew there working on the cannons and cleaning them. I continued down to the berthing deck, where all the crew I had put in hammocks were sleeping peacefully. Or, resting peacefully if they were all Terminators.

Going down the last deck, I spotted the two crew I sent down to imprison Elsa, while the blonde herself sat against the mast. Looking aft, I was surprised to see the large electrical motor positioned at the rear of the ship. I went aft, inspecting the equipment along the way. I didn't recognize it, but it seemed more advanced than anything I had ever used.

Walking back to the stairs, I headed up. I needed answers on the motor and what all the equipment around it meant. Finding Clark near the helm, I walked over.

"Clark, does this vessel have an electrical motor that it can use to propel itself?"

"Affirmative," Clark said in his monotone voice. "This vessel is equipped with a specially modified electric motor and hydrogen powered fuel cells. Top speed for this system on this vessel is forty knots."

I smiled at the information. This was a fantasy come true. _Blood Diamond_ was just as it was built; a sailing vessel with an advanced electric engine that could go much faster than the wind could push it.

"Helm!" I called out, turning to the helmsman. "Activate our engine and increase speed to thirty knots."

"Affirmative," he said, hitting a button on the center of the wheel and turning a knob there. I couldn't believe my luck on this one. Hell, the only thing left was getting my ship outfitted before I sailed into port. Preferably with gold.

The ship surged forward again, the ship picking up speed. I watched in fascination as the other ship came closer. I walked to the bowsprit, standing on the railing I watched as our ships came closer together. Soon, we were close enough together that I could see the British flag flying from it's mast. It was then that the other ship could make out ours.

The other ship turned slightly to its starboard, catching more of the wind. I watched as the other vessel ran out it's cannon, her crew having already loaded them. I couldn't help the smile as I watched the vessel as it neared. If the _Diamond_ were like the ship she was based on, those cannons were useless.

"Hard to port!" I called out as we neared the other ship. "Bring us alongside and prepare to board!"

The ship rolled a bit in the turn, and the British ship fired her cannon just as they passed us. I was almost disappointed when the other ship's cannonballs missed my ship entirely. What poor shots. My helmsman continued the turn, and it was easy to see the other captain panicking as we approached from his rear. I could see him as he turned a spyglass on me, and I just smiled as we came upon him quickly.

"Stow sheets and cut speed," I called out, not wanting to give away my motorized advancement. "Bring us alongside slowly! All hands, prepare to board on my command!"

I looked back to see the flood of crew coming up out of the depths of the ship and turned back to see the opposing captain pale, as we were that close now. He looked so defeated, staring at me as we got closer, my bowsprit pulling abreast of his ship. Finally he called out, "Strike the colors, prepare to surrender!"

"Good choice," I said, as we passed. I could see the look of disbelief on his crew's faces as I passed, my own stowing sheets as they used ropes and hooks to secure the other ship to mine.

"All hands! Board that ship and secure all crew!" I said, swinging over to the other ship. My crew quickly followed, relieving the enemy of their weapons. "Round up the ship's crew and bring them on the main deck," I said, finding my first mate Clark not far from me. He nodded his head and then led several men down into the ship where more yelling could be heard as more men came up.

"Are you the captain of that pirate ship?" the man who had been using the spyglass earlier asked of me.

"Aye, Captain Edward Black," I said. "And that ship is called the _Blood Diamond._ Fastest ship in the world, guaranteed."

"I doubt it," he said, almost sneering as he looked at it. "It's a frigate, isn't it? I bet a sloop in the hands of a capable captain could outrun her."

"You'd think wrong," I said, smiling at the captain's wonder. "I could run that sloop to ground even if she had oars and was traveling dead into the wind."

"That's impossible," he breathed and I shook my head.

"Just a really good ship," I said and the captain turned to look at me.

"I see," he said, his face grim and still showing some fear. "Well, you have my ship as well. I surrender the 'Newcastle' to you, and my sword," he said, extending his still sheathed sword. I took the proffered weapon and secured the weapon to my belt. "What do you intend to do now?"

"Clark!" I called to my first mate who was leading the last of the captives out of the hold. "Strip this ship of everything you can find. The sails, the flags, its cargo. Every item aboard. Get the powder and cannonballs distributed to the cannons. I want to be able to use them next time we meet a ship."

"You have no cannon?" The captain asked in an astonished tone. "What kind of captain sails with no cannon?"

"One who had little choice in the matter," I said, grimacing at how close I came to sailing off into oblivion.

I looked around at the fifty or so men on the ship, and weighed leaving them alive or killing them. Alive, they had the ability to squeal about my taking their ship. Dead, well, dead men tell no tales.

I moved aft, entering the officer's quarters I began ruffling through the drawers when I found the maps. Curiosity hit me, and I began searching around the North Sea for Arendelle. I found the countries I expected to find, but not one was marked Arendelle. Rolling the maps up, I tucked them under an arm, an idea coming to mind as my crew began to rummage through the room as I left.

On the main deck of the 'Newcastle,' I saw several of my crew as they ringed the prisoners. I decided then to kill them, as if they made it back to land they would report my acts of piracy to the authorities and then I'd be a wanted man. Not that I wouldn't be hunted down eventually, anyway, but I wanted a chance to build a bit before I had a price on my head.

Going back to the officer's quarters of the 'Blood Diamond,' I laid out the maps and began to search them more thoroughly, noting each country along the water. I was so engrossed in my search that I didn't notice my crew finishing their tasks until Clark reported in to me.

"The 'Newcastle' has been stripped of all supplies," he told me.

"Good," I said, walking past him to the railing so I could see the men I was about to have killed. "Kill 'em and then sink the ship," I said, and my crew moved forward with blades raised. The prisoners screamed, then scattered as they tried to save themselves, but my crew were Terminators. They killed everyone, leaving nothing but corpses on the deck as it began to sink after a few went below to punch holes in the hull.

"Clark, set sail for Port Royal. Make our speed about twenty knots," I told him. He left to carry out my orders, and I returned to studying the area around the North Sea. After five minutes, I gave up and decided to see if my prisoner was ready to have her world turned on its head.

"Clark, bring me the prisoner in the hold," I told him. He left, leaving the door open. When he came back, Elsa was still bound in rope, hands behind her. "Untie the prisoner, Clark."

"It hasn't been long enough to break my will, yet," she said darkly, as she rubbed her now free wrists.

"Got something else that might," I told her. She locked eyes with me, and I held her gaze. "Where is Arendelle?"

"On the northern edge of the North Sea," she told me. I slid the map over and she bent over to look at it.

"This map doesn't list it," I told her. She studied the map for a moment, then sighed.

"You've modified it," she said finally.

"I haven't," I told her and she gave me a look as if she didn't believe me. "I just took it from the ship I attacked."

"How can that be?" she said, sitting in the chair to study it better. "I know Arendelle is there."

"Because you aren't real," I told her, and she looked up at me in shock. "You're a story, in the vein of Robin Hood or Don Quixote, but that's all you are; a story. It's how I knew you when we first met, and knew so much of your history, even the fate of your parents when all you know is they were lost at sea."

"A story," she said, shocked.

"Ever wonder how you left Arendelle and ended up in the middle of the Caribbean Sea? Long distance, over a month from the North Sea for most ships," I told her.

"That, that can't be true," she finally breathed. "If it is, then tell me something no one should know."

"The day of your parents memorial service at their burial stone, you sat in your room," I told her, watching her shocked reaction. "You didn't attend as that day you had no control of your powers. When Anna returned, she asked you one last question, something she did often, but she didn't ask you to open the door. She asked if you wanted to build a snowman. You didn't respond, just listened to Anna cry as she sat on the other side of the door where you yourself sat, both lost in your grief."

Elsa's face was priceless as she listened. "No one knew that," she told me.

"But I do," I told her.

"No, it can't be," she said, getting defensive. "You're lying."

"Maps don't lie," I told her.

"They can be changed, and made to lie," she spat back.

"All right," I said, smiling as a thought hit me. "One month. One month, I'll let you review any and every map we come across in our travels. Find me the course to the kingdom of Arendelle, and I'll take you home."

"I'm sure that's feasible," she said, calming down. "And if, at the end of that month, I haven't been able to find Arendelle because, as you say, we don't exist?"

"Then you are what you are," I said, my smile deepening. "A young woman with no money, no history, no family. You will submit yourself to me in full as my wife."

"I guess if what you say is true, it will be favorable to have someone who can care for me," she said absently, thinking it over. "However, I want access to those maps as soon as the fighting has stopped."

"I'll see you escorted to them as soon as they surrender," I promised. "Now that we have an agreement between us, I think we should discuss your sleeping arrangements."

"I refuse to allow you to take me to your bed before we are properly married," she said stubbornly.

"I was going to say for you to use my bed," I said, watching her serious expression fall a bit as I continued on, "And that I'll use one of the officer's quarters until this matter is settled between us."

"That would be agreeable," she said.

"It will also allow you the chance to have those quarters repaired or altered to your satisfaction," I told her and her eyes went up at that.

"And if I decide I want the whole room redone?" she said, her face set in a serious expression as she tested my intentions. "I am to assume you'll let me get away with anything?"

"That's how sure I am you are about to lose our bet," I said confidently. "And on that note, I see no reason for you to be miserable during your time on my ship. If you want to open the space up, see if any of my crew are knowledgeable about carpentry and engage them however you see fit. I'll leave word with Clark that as long as you are not trying to escape the ship, leave me behind or cause me harm that your word is next to mine aboard this ship."

"Thank you, Captain Black," she said as I stood. "You make your point quite well."

"Sail ahoy!" I heard called from outside.

"If you'll excuse me," I said, tipping my hat as I strode out the door. Clark met me outside, handing me a spyglass as I went forward to the bowsprit. Ahead on the water, I could see a small boat, maybe a dory, being captained by one man who at the moment was looking at his own spyglass back to me.

It was with disgust I placed him, Jack Sparrow. Collapsing the spyglass, I slipped it back in a pocket. "Clark, slow the ship, bring us alongside and throw a rope on that craft. I'll talk with it's captain, but keep swords handy. He's shifty."

"Aye, sir," Clark said, turning away to give orders to the other crew before returning to join me.

I put the spyglass back to my eye, watching as Sparrow grew alarmed as we approached. He looked around him, turned his head up to look at his pirate flag and the breeze, then seemed to resign himself to being captured.

My crew lassoed the ship, and I could see the water already pooling in the bottom. Jack stood on top of the boom holding the sail up, and he calmly walked over to lean against the railing of the _Diamond_.

"Morning," he said with a broad smile. "Fancy seein' you here on this fine ship."

"Fancy seeing yourself, Captain Jack Sparrow of the _Black Pearl_ ," I told him, wiping the smile off his face in the process. "Oh, yes, I quite know of the infamous pirate captains of the _Pearl_ , both yourself and that traitorous first mate, Barbossa."

"I don't suppose you know where next the _Pearl_ will make port?" he asked me, lowering his voice a bit to sound more menacing.

"I do," I said, making Jack's eyes go up in surprise. "But that information will cost you your lordship."

"Do I look a lord?" he said, giving me a smile while he tried to charm me.

I reached out, grabbing his Piece of Eight hanging from the bandanna wrapped around his head and gave it a tug. "Pirate Lord of the Caribbean," I said, and his smile dropped.

"Certainly know all the wrong things in life, don't you?" he said cautiously. "Question becomes, how?"

"How isn't so much important as knowing what, when, where, and why," I said, making Jack smile.

"A man after me own heart," he said brightly.

"The proper leverage, Jack," I said, smiling. "In this case, I can even help you get your _Pearl_ back from Barbossa, and let you sail off into the sunset as you pursue a way of living forever."

"I have a way of living forever," he said, still smiling.

"The Chest of Cortes isn't a curse you want, Jack," I said, and his smile fell again. "Never dying nor truly dead. The food never satisfies, the drink doesn't quench, and all the ladies in the world won't satisfy your lust."

"You know a lot," he said, giving me an eye.

"I know of your debt to Jones, your compass and it's special qualities, and plenty more," I told him.

"No one knows of my debt to Jones," he informed me, his tone dark. "I went down with my ship, I was one of those lined up and asked the question. It was my WIT that got me the _Pearl_ back from the depths, and it will be my wit that sees me free of that debt."

"Your wit will get you killed," I told him and he gave me an evil eye. "You will serve on the _Dutchman_ , and you will know what it's like to be imprisoned in the Locker. But if you give me your lordship now, I promise to see you get your precious ship back, that I will see you safely off the _Dutchman_ , and out of the Locker as these situations come."

"Can you see that I live forever?" he asked, fingering his Piece of Eight.

"That I can't do," I told him. "But I know where the Deadman's Chest is located and where the key is kept. Maybe you can change your fate."

"Deadman's chest?" he asked me, raising an eyebrow.

"Wherein lies the heart of Davy Jones," I said and his other eyebrown went up. "Stab the heart, and take Jones' place as captain of the _Dutchman,"_ I told him. "Of course, your own heart must take its place and you must do the job of ferrying the souls to other side or face the same corruption as Jones and his tentacle covered face. One day ashore, ten years at sea."

Jack ran his fingers over his beard, not liking those parts. "So how does one break the curse of Cortes that now protects Barbossa?" he asked me.

"Barbossa searches for the last of the cursed treasure of Cortes," I told him, and he looked thoughtful. "I know where said piece is, who has possession of it and whose blood that must be repaid to the chest."

"How long will it take you to get me back in charge of the _Pearl,_ " he asked me.

"Several days," I said, and Jack smiled. "I only need you for one thing."

"To look dashing?" he said, smiling.

"Of all the things I know," I said, giving him a grin of my own, "The island that can only be found, save by those who have already been there and its never been graced by my presence. From you, I will need you to pilot this ship safely to said island."

"And if we should go cannon to cannon with the _Pearl_?" he asked, face falling a bit at the thought.

"I can easily outgun her, outrun her, and my men can rip his crew apart like paper," I said, and Jack looked at the sailors around me as if they weren't human.

"No ship can catch the _Pearl_ ," he said defensively.

"Not anymore," I said with a wicked grin. "In, or out in the leaky tub?" I said nodding my head towards the small ship he had been captaining."

"In," he said, smiling. "Where we headed?"

"Port Royal," I said, and his grin grew. "I need to see the governor's daughter."

"Do we have time for that?" he asked, and I shook my head.

"She has the last of the treasure of Cortes," I told him. "The blacksmith's apprentice in Port Royal is the son of Bootstrap Bill, his blood will be needed. These two things will break the curse Barbossa enjoys."

"And the _Pearl_?" he asked.

"Your compass can lead us to the _Pearl_ ," I told him. "All you need do is lay claim to her again."

"It is your ship, captain," he said, making a little bow.

"Clark!" I called, my first mate coming to stand by me. "Have the dory brought aboard and it's leak repaired. It shall be taken back to its proper owner later. Jack, I must ask that you behave yourself around my guest. She's, sensitive."

"I'm rather known as a sensitive person," he said as I moved aft to talk to my helmsman.

"Resume course for Port Royal," I told the helmsman, once I was standing next to him. "Best speed."

"Aye, sir," he said, before calling out for the sheets to be lowered. Surprisingly, the sailors aloft followed his order.

"Come, Jack, I think I should introduce you to the lady of the ship," I said, turning to the Captain's Cabin.

I knocked on the door when we got there, and soon Elsa was opening the door. Jack took one look and I think he fell in love.

"Lady Elsa, this is Captain Jack Sparrow," I said, introducing the man.

"My dear," Jack said, kissing Elsa's proffered hand, "You are certainly worth a king's ransom."

"He certainly tries to be charming," she said as she wiped her hand on her dress.

"That he does," I told her. "Jack's going to be with us for several days, staying in one of the officer's cabins on the half deck. We'll be in port in a few hours. I'll send you ashore when we get there along with a couple of crew. You can buy whatever personal affects you'll need for yourself before returning to the ship."

"Thank you, captain," she said cooly. I had the impression she wasn't happy with the arrangement, but wasn't going to protest the chance to buy some feminine items for herself. If my ideas about the timeline of what was about to happen were correct, tonight Barbossa would hit Port Royal. On the morrow, we'd be running him down.

"I'll select the crew when we arrive that will act as your protection," I told her. "Until then, good day."

"Well, I'll certainly be making her 'acquaintance' again," Jack said after she shut the door.

"Be careful about that, Jack," I told him. "She's to be my wife, and you don't have the Pearl yet to even hope to outrun me."

"All things in time, though, yes?" he said hopefully.

"For the Pearl, yes," I said, moving downstairs to the helm. "For immortality, those are different matters."

"Well, you must know something," he asked of me as he kept pace with me.

"I know of three ways of living nigh on forever," I told him. "The chest of Cortes, replacing Davy Jones, and the Fountain of Youth."

"You know of the Fountain?" he asked me, his voice low.

"And the rituals required to make it work," I told him, scanning the horizon. "Even I wouldn't want to risk it. First step is Whitecap Bay," I said, turning to watch the color drain from his face. "You have to ensnare a mermaid, then transport her across land to the Fountain. Along the way, you have to acquire the chalices of Ponce de Leon, which can be found in his perfectly balanced ship."

"Again with the knowing," he said darkly. "After those waters for yourself?"

"The waters don't give eternal youth in and of themselves," I told him, and he seemed to shrink under my stern gaze. "They require a sacrifice of another person's life. You get all the years he's lived, and would have lived, and that's all you get."

That seemed to really deflate Jack, who turned away. "Is there any way of living forever that don't involve killing someone?"

"Just the chest of Cortes," I told him, and Jack walked away. I couldn't help but feel for the guy, but he really did do it to himself.

For the next two hours, I walked my ship, finding two female sailors on the berthing deck to send with Elsa as guards. One was a tall raven haired woman I named Dianna while the other was a chestnut haired woman I called Sarah. Both women carried swords on their lean waists, and took places by the entrance to the Captain's Cabin.

As we pulled into Port Royal, I saw Jack take his hat off to hanging skeletons as we passed. I also nodded my hat to Captain Kidd's corpse as we passed, then turned to yell at Clark. "Stow mainsail! Cut speed and dock!"

My crew followed my orders, stowing the sails and readying my ship for docking. Elsa came out, flanked by her two guards. She looked at both of them before nodding her acceptance, her gaze at me speaking volumes. She might hate the idea of being sent with guards, but female guards were apparently accepted.

As we began to dock, the dock master walked over. Having already foreseen this, and Jack's encounter with the man, I had his shilling waiting when I stepped off the dock, having already taken it from the captain I had killed earlier.

"It's a shilling to tie off at this dock," he said as my men secured the Diamond.

"Your shilling," I said, handing it to him. "I'm Captain Edward Black of the Blood Diamond."

"Welcome to Port Royal, Captain Black," he said, writing my name in his ledger.

"My dear," I said, as Elsa came down the gangplank, her guards right behind her. "I've counted over a hundred shillings for your personal use. Please return before dark."

"You are very kind," she said, taking the bag full of coins. There wasn't any warmth to her voice, and I knew she had to figure she was on a short leash. It was an honor thing that she wouldn't try to run away or get local guards involved, or I had to figure it that way anyway. She and I had a bet on who was right and wrong, and I wasn't pressuring her into anything that was untoward a lady of her status, even giving her my own room and allowing her to redecorate it as she pleased.


	25. Snow Queen Of The West

Chapter 01

March 16, 1866

It was dusty, smelly ride on the Overland stage. I hadn't expected it to be overly smooth, but the ride was far rougher than I imagined it would be. Still, as the door opened and I was able to step out, I found myself exactly where I wanted to be.

Waller, Texas. Stepping point to the American frontier and the wild west.

Once I had my feet safely on the ground, I began to dust myself off and study my surroundings. Waller wasn't more than a dozen buildings, arranged along a single street with more houses I could logically assume were where the residents lived. I began to scan the street for a hotel sign, but didn't find one before a local with a golden star on his coat approached me, taking his off as he came to a halt.

"Howdy ma'am," he said with a smile on his face. His accent was heavy in what I believed was a generic southern style, but understandable. "I'm Winston Travers, town marshal. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"Yes, marshal," I said, giving him a pleasant smile of my own. "I'm Elsa Dame. Is there a hotel in town?"

His smile faltered a bit, telling me there wasn't one, but he gathered his resolve quickly. "Sorry, ma'am. There's room to rent over the saloon, but no hotel and the boarding house is full up."

"That will be sufficient," I told him with a smile. What information I had told me what I was looking for would be found in the saloon, which would be easier accessed given my status if I had a room there.

The marshal offered his elbow which I took, and he led me down the boardwalk almost to its end before turning into a building whose doors seemed more decoration than security as a person tall enough could peer through without problem and lacked any sort of latch. The marshal led me through the doors and into the saloon where several men sat around large circular tables playing card games and drinking spirits. They all stared at me, some with mouth's agape as I was led to a counter.

"Jeffry," the marshal said to snap the man out of his reverie. "Miss Dame here needs a room."

"Sure, sure," the man said, pulling a pencil from behind his ear and began to write in his ledger. "Got three rooms left. Best one is fifty cents a night, it has the feather bed, and the other two have straw-ticks."

"Straw-tick?" I asked him, never having heard the term before.

"It's a mattress filled with straw," Travers informed me. "Depending on when the straw was last changed and its last occupants, it's usually not that buggy. Beats the ground, that's for sure."

"Buggy?" I said aghast. That was a term I'd only ever heard concerning infestations. "You mean it's infested?"

"Can be," the marshal told me with a pained grimace as if didn't want to admit that to a high society woman.

"I'll take the feather bed," I told the clerk. It, at least, was something I was used to sleeping on and was comfortable.

"Alright," he said, making a few more scratch marks in his book before turning it around. "If you'll sign it, miss."

I took the proffered pencil, writing my slightly fictitious name inside with no regrets. While my first name was Elsa, given to me by my parents, I had come up with the Dame on my own. Traditionally, my family didn't have a last name. Instead, we had and used titles, titles I had abandoned along with whom I was and no longer wished to be.

"Elsa Dame," Jeffry said, reading my name. "It surely do fit you like a glove, Miss Dame, or is it missus?"

"Miss," I told him truthfully. "I have never been, nor do I ever intend to be, married."

"Crying shame, if you ask me," he said under his breath where he thought I couldn't hear. I let it slide, not wanting to lose out on the last rooms in this small western town, and soon had the key to my room in hand.

"Top of the stairs and turn right, furthest room on the left," he told me. "Sheets are fresh."

"I'll escort you up, Miss Dame," Travers said, again offering his elbow. I took his elbow and he led me to the stairs near the middle of the room. The stairs were wide enough for three, and raising the hem of my skirt, ascended with Travers to the second floor. Here we turned right down the hallway, going past another hallway filled with doors.

At the door, I used my key to unlock the door and go inside. The room was small, but well apportioned with a double bed beside the door and a dresser further down where the washbasin sat. There was also plenty of room for my trunks when they were brought up, and a window at the far end to let in the light.

"I'll go help bring in your bags," Travers said, leaving me alone in the room.

Alone again, I removed my coat and laid it on the end of the bed and poured myself some water into the washbasin. I scrubbed the dirt off my face and hands and made myself otherwise presentable in the mirror mounted above the dresser. I looked the part of a lady, again, and swallowed my fears before Travers re-entered my room.

"Your first trunk," he said, bringing in the large, metal-reinforced chest carried between him and the stagecoach driver.

"Set it by the dresser," I told them, moving out of their way. The men lowered it carefully to the floor by the dresser, then trundled out to bring in my other, much larger, trunk.

While the men were gone, I pulled the key chain over my head bringing the heavy key out and opened it up to check inside for my valuables. The six boxes containing the last of my family's heirlooms were where I left them, on the bottom of the trunk protected by layers of paintings of my family going back generations. As much as I wanted to open the boxes and check their contents further, I quickly covered them back up and locked the trunk, replacing the key down the front of my blouse with its chain around my neck. To anyone else, it merely looked like a necklace again, and for that I was thankful.

It took a few minutes longer for the men to return, this time with the shotgun guard helping to lift the heavy wooden thing. Though technically called a trunk, it was actually a portable wardrobe. In it were my dresses, toiletries and jewelry, though I preferred to dress plainly rather than the gaudy style of Eastern American women. This trunk they sat at the foot of the bed, against the wall, then the stagecoach driver and shotgun guard left.

"If you'd like, ma'am, I'd like to escort you to dinner," Travers asked of me. I nodded my assent, donned my coat and took his proffered elbow as he led me back down the hallway.

I had a brief glance of a woman coming out of one of the upstair rooms whose door overlooked the main part of the saloon. She was dressed in what appeared to be her undergarments which revealed her bare leg as she walked. Travers noticed her and quickened his pace which pulled me along and not allowing me to take a better look, soon having me out the door.

He did slow down once we were outside, leading me down the boardwalk. This was the first time I was able to really look at the town. Next to the saloon was a barbershop, and a leather working shop past that. On the other side of the street, directly across the street was the livery, some horses and cows in its paddock. Next to the livery was a blacksmith shop, then the general store next to it with some wares on display out front.

Then there was a cross street, prompting Travers and I to descend some steps and cross the dusty street and up the other side where an apothecary shop was set up. Next to it on our side was the marshal's office and past it the cafe. On the other side of the street was a bank, and next to it a doctor's office. A laundry service was next to that ending that side of the street.

It seemed we were heading to the cafe as we soon stepped past the marshal's office. With no other building to go to, it seemed a logical assumption. That assumption became reality as Travers turned through the propped open doors and led me inside to an empty table. Travers pulled out a chair for me to sit in, and I sat down to bare wood table. Travers sat himself across from me, his back to a wall in what I assumed was a bid to keep an eye on the clientele.

"This place has great grub," Travers told me as we waited.

"Grub?" I repeated. I figured he had to mean food, but the colloquialisms he was using were slightly confusing.

"Yeah, food," he said, laughing at my confusion. "You Easterners sure do talk funny at times. Highly complicated."

"We converse in means that are acceptable to all persons," I informed him. "I do guess it can get a bit convoluted at times."

"That's a three dollar word, right there," Travers jested with me. "Con-vee-luted. Don't even know what it means."

"It means it gets complicated," I said, laughing with him. "What do you recommend for dinner?"

"I prefer the blue plate special, myself," he said right as our waitress appeared. "Hey, Lucinda. You can go ahead and write that down for you pa to cook and bring me coffee to drink.."

"Si, senor," she said in a Spanish accent. "Para ti, senorita?"

"Yo tendre lo mismo que Marshal Travers," I told her in Spanish. She blushed a bit at that, and wrote it down. "Además, ¿puedes traerme la crema y el azúcar para mi café?"

"Si," she said, then disappeared into the back.

"You seem to talk their language fairly well," Travers commented.

"It helps that I had a Spanish tutor from Spain," I told him.

"That would most definitely help," he affirmed. "I couldn't tell you a thing about their language. I'm from Michigan, so I'd know more about the French fur trappers than these wetbacks."

"Oh, alors vous parlez Français?" I asked him and he chuckled.

"A bit," he confessed. "Know enough to understand it, but I somehow garble it when I speak it. I find it best to just stick to English."

"That might be for the best," I said as Lucinda came back with a tray. She placed one in front of me and another him before pouring coffee in both from a metal pot from her tray. When the steaming hot contents were poured, she left the pots of cream and sugar with me before heading back into the kitchen.

"Cream and sugar?" I asked him as I put some into my own cup.

"No, thanks," he said, drinking his brew straight from his cup as it was poured. "I like mine black and strong."

"Too bitter for me," I told him, sipping my own. Lucinda then appeared with two plates containing a large slab of steak and slices potatoes and onions. Once Lucinda set the plates down, and as Travers and I picked up our utensils, a man came bursting through the door.

"Marshal!" he yelled, searching wildly for his target. "Marshal!"

"What is it, Tom?" Travers said, getting to his feet and brushing his coat back to reveal then large holstered pistol he carried.

"There's going to be a killin' in the saloon!" he yelled.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Travers said tipping his hat briefly before hurriedly following the man out the door. His boots were heavy on the boardwalk as he ran to intercept the trouble before it began, but the unmistakable boom of a firing weapon soon filled the cafe.

I ate in silence, having figured that the shot was fired too soon for it to have been caused or aimed at Travers. It took a minute or two more for the marshal to return, and he sat back to his spot to eat.

"I'd heard western justice was swift," I told the marshal after swallowing my second bite of steak, "but either the man has escaped and you've elected not to go after him or..."

"He's locked up tight in my jail," Travers told me as he cut his own steak. "Cowboy had a disagreement over cards so he shot the other fella. I know a few of the people who'll be witnesses at his trial, and where to find them, so there's nothin' left for me to do."

"What punishment is he likely to face?" I asked him, wondering what the end result of western justice was going to be.

"Oh, if I know Judge Peters, he'll hang," Travers said as he took a bite of the steak. He chewed it fast, then swallowed as he cut a second bite.

"Following the law is important," I said to fill the emptiness in the air between us. Travers seemed more interested in his food than conversation, so I let it go while we ate. It wasn't until Travers had finished his meal that he even said another word.

"Fine meal," he said finally once he had finished he plate. "Out here in the west, eating is a serious business so we usually don't speak while we eat."

"I guess it's to protect your food from other predators?" I asked and he shrugged.

"I always heard it said that you can talk anytime, but eatin', that's something you don't do but three times a day if you're lucky," he informed me then grimaced again. "Less sometimes."

"I appreciate the information," I told him as I finished the last of my potatoes and onions.

"So, what brings a high class woman like yourself to the edge of the frontier?"

"I'm here to start a business venture," I told him. It was the truth, at least.

"I hate to pry, ma'am," he said, and his immediately nervous demeanor told me he didn't want to ask what he was about to but he had to as part of his job, "But what type of business are you planning to start here in town."

"A cattle operation," I told him and he relaxed at that. "I take it you approve?"

"It beats some ideas I was a worryin' over, that's for sure," he said with a chuckle. "Town fathers had me run out a few other 'ladies' a few months ago and my standin' orders are to keep it that way. Saloons bein' what they are, there's little I can do."

"Ladies?" I queried, and he blushed a deep red. "Why would the town fathers run women out of town?"

"Not quite the high bred lady you are," he hedged. "I'm talkin' the sort of women that make their livin' in less..." he got out before he seemed to run out of words and a pained expression crossed his face.

"Scrupulous ways?" I completed, and he gave me a large, thankful nod.

"I do my best to keep it clean in town," he explained, "And the only such ladies like that are in the saloon."

"Such as the one 'lady' in her bloomers as we were leaving?"

"Yeah," he said, getting uncertain again. "I don't like the idea of you spending the night in the saloon, but since the boarding house is full, it's the best I can offer. Unless you want to spend the night in jail. I can guarantee your safety there, but that's it."

"I can handle my own safety," I told him, knowing I could handle myself if someone got too forward.

"Never said you couldn't," he said defensively, "But I can't babysit you either. As for the time it's gettin' to be, the best thing for you to do would be to return to your room for the evening."

"No evening entertainment?" I asked him and he shook his head.

"Nothing fittin' for a good lady," he told me.

"Well then," I told him, standing from my chair. "If you will escort me back to my room, I'd like to get some rest. It's been a long trip from Houston."

"Certainly," he said, standing to offer me his arm. I took it and we stepped out of the cafe together, this time for a more leisurely stroll towards the saloon. The walk was silent though, for which I was thankful, and soon we were entering the saloon.

It was more crowded now, with most of the tables occupied with men and card games. A few ladies went around between the tables, some carrying trays of drinks and others were pouring themselves over some, apparently lucky, man hoping to be taken advantage of this night. Travers walked me quickly to the stairs and up out of sight, and soon had me back at my room.

"Now, mind what I said about staying in your room," he told me as he guarded the door. "The wolves are already downstairs, and they might mistake your intentions if you go down now."

"I understand, marshal," I told him. "I intend to lock the door once it is closed."

"Good deal," he said, taking a step back. "See ya tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow," I confirmed then closed the door and locked it.

It was only then that I heard his boots as he left and my shoulders slumped as I could finally relax. It might not seem like I had much to hide, but if he knew the truth I would likely be run out of town as well. It wasn't that I wasn't whom I seemed, but was actually so much more.

To the marshal, I was an Eastern lady, probably wealthy but most definitely well educated and young. I was here ostensibly to start a business, and though he hadn't pried into exactly what business I was going to start, he probably figured it was likely it was going to be a nearby ranch.

In truth, I was from the continent of Europe, a small kingdom that had been given its freedom and was practicing democracy under a Storting. I had left because I was once its ruler, specifically its queen, having turned over control to the Storting I created before fleeing. I was a much beloved queen, ruling with fairness and compassion and saw my people through two years of the Spanish Flu outbreak that killed so many.

My sister, Princess Anna, had started a hospital with my blessing where the sick were quarantined and access to doctors was paid for by royal coffers. The actual number of dead was predicted to be higher, but thanks to the efforts of my sister in recognizing the initial problem and being ready with a solution, we kept the numbers out of the hundreds, but the greatest catastrophe was one of a personal nature.

Anna became sick.

I had her moved into a private room where she could get the best treatment possible, but after two weeks she had only slipped further away. Finally, on the twenty-third of September in the year eighteen forty eight, Anna breathed her last while I sopped her forehead with a cool cloth.

I took the loss hard, but Anna's husband, Kristoff took the loss hard as well. All that really kept him in civilization was Anna whom found him while searching for me in the summer of thirty nine. Married in the winter of forty-two, they had one child together whom Kristoff took with when he returned to the mountains, never to be heard from again.

I myself found it hard to stay in the palace alone, so in winter of forty nine, almost a full year after Anna's death, I planned to leave. Most of the royal items I sent to my cousin Oscar the First, the King of Norway along with a letter explaining my intentions. Having done what I had with the expediency I planned, I never received a letter back, but that was also my intent.

I left Arendelle in December of that year, carrying mostly private family items with me. As I knelt next to my heavily reinforced trunk, and took the key from its hiding place, I checked again on its contents. On the top were the paintings of the generations of my family tree which I removed and set aside. In the bottom were six boxes, varying in size from a two foot cubed to a six inch square-ended box that was three feet long.

They contained the four crowns of Arendelle, one each for the king and queen, and one each to be worn by the heir assumptive prince or princess. I also had the orb and scepter I once held at my coronation, not wanting to part with them.

Slowly, I put everything back in the trunk, being careful to not damage any of the paintings. Once I had it locked safely back like it was before, I decided to get ready for bed. I did still tire, even if I didn't age, though I didn't tire like any other forty-seven year old person. I was still as young and fit as ever.

And I hated myself for it.

As I removed my traveling clothes, I could only wonder what tomorrow would bring. I needed to talk to a cowboy, preferably one with experience in handling cattle. It was my intention, based on information from a wealthy new socialite I met in Boston, to take several thousand head of cattle north into the Dakota Territory with as many men as I could afford. My intention was to sell the cattle as beef to the railroad being made through the Dakota Territory on its way to the Pacific coast, setting up a ranch to keep producing beef for Eastern markets.

Those were my intentions, anyway.


	26. Whiskey Outpost

7 Days To Die - Disney Xover

Chapter 1

I lay awake in bed with my wife. I couldn't help but think about tomorrow. Debark Day. The day I'd get my first crop of recruits. I was anxious to say the least. It could go either really well, or really bad.

I thought back over the events that had led me here. I was born after the world erupted in chaos. The dead had started walking, and they started killing. The military had tried to burn them out, but they kept walking. Eventually, the survivors had retreated to the North Pole, to a city that had been made there. The idea had been that the frozen terrain would be too inhospitable, too far for the dead to find us. While that idea seemed to work, we were faced with new problems. The great greenhouses that supplied our food didn't age well. Some nights, the heat would fail and engineers would have to scramble to fix the problem, but the tender plants often would be damaged. That had led to food shortages.

At first the Ruling Council had just cut back on the number of allowed births. But as the problems kept rising, they needed a new way to cut back. One of the council had proposed getting rid of the weak amongst the city. That had started a whole new debate that culminated in a settlement. Every graduating class would be rated. The lowest fifteen percent of the class would be eliminated. The students were rated on grades, physical ability, and prospective use to society. Those few that would be eliminated would be put in one last class for their senior year. They'd be taught survival, then on graduation day, would be flown down to the continent and left to fend for themselves. If they could survive for two years, the city would grant them outpost status, and send them as many of the next round of "outcasts" that they wanted.

The idea had merit. The weak and useless were culled from the City, not to be executed, but allowed a chance to thrive if they truly wanted it. I was a part of the twenty third class. Not as one mandated to be there, I volunteered.

Volunteering for the Outlands was unheard of, but the instructor allowed it. One of the outcast was rotated out, I was rotated in, and then I began training same as them. Or so I thought. It soon became clear that allowances were being made, and then I had to meet with the Council. Apparently, I had started a trend. Kids were eager to try to make the deal, much to the chagrin of their parents. So the rules were changed. As a volunteer, there would be perks. On Debark Day, I'd get a hatchet along with basic supplies. Later, they decided I would get to pick a second to jump with me.

Everyone had wanted to be my friend. Guys were doing their best to show off their skills to display how useful they could be, and the girls? Well, the girls were doing that too, along with climbing into bed with me at night. It eventually got to the point that I had to pick a favorite, if only so I could sleep at night. I eventually settled on Mariana. She was a petite blonde, about five foot two and a hundred pounds during a shower. The reason I chose her, not just for her looks, was that she was the daughter of our instructor.

After that, I managed to get some sleep. Not that everyone accepted my decision. I still got lots of little "auditions". They would try to outdo me in all the classes, usually failing, and the girls would try to get in bed with me at night. Mariana would usually help me then. Not only did she want the coveted position as my choice to jump with, she was afraid of jumping alone. Mariana, I would later learn, was just not as quick on the uptake as her classmates. She wasn't a dumb blond, just a slow one.

On jump day, while Mariana and I sat near the exit on the plane, her dad would look at me as each one was lined up to jump. Every time I shook my head no, and he shoved them out. Not only was she good looking, she seemed to compliment my failures. I was a terrible cook, while she cooked great. She was also more knowledgeable than me when it came to medicine. She could also keep up with me in a sprint, which is where I excelled, and didn't whine endlessly when we were forced to march in one hundred pound packs.

My choice made, I watched each of them jump, some with tears in their eyes. When we were the last pair, Captain Goodson linked our harnesses together, then right before he kicked us out, clipped something to my harness. Turns out it was a pump shotgun with an extended tube for extra rounds, and a bag with three hundred rounds. It proved invaluable to me over the course of the next few years. Once on the ground, Mariana and I scouted the local area. Turns out we weren't far from a town, maybe ten miles. We set up camp on a slight hill, the bottom tufted up like the bed of a dry creek. It was there we built our fortress, a place I dubbed Whiskey Outpost.

Two years we had been living here. The special clocks we carried counted down the days. Tomorrow we could expect a plane of some sort to come, bringing us the next class.

And here I was, nervous.

I got out of bed, and wandered to the open window casing. Never having found glass, I'd never been able to finish the windows, but they still let me see out. Two years? It seemed so much longer. From dawn to dusk, every day I worked and sweated building a home for Mariana and myself. That first night, she made it clear that she wasn't going to be sharing a bed with me anymore. I had tolerated it. It had been fun while it lasted, but it wasn't in me to hurt her. A few weeks later, I found her crying one morning. Turns out, she was pregnant. And since I was the only guy she'd been with in the last five months while we were being trained…

She thought I would abandon her, abandon the baby so I would be able to survive. My first action cured her of that thought. I'd slapped her for thinking I would ever abandon her. It made the first six months that much more important. It wasn't that if I failed to get a house up that we'd be sleeping in the cold weather. It wasn't that if I failed to provide food for every meal we'd get a little thinner. I now had a third member of our team to take care of. And I did.

I made sure she always had enough to eat, that she never got too cold. I built the walls to our log cabin within weeks, hauling each log to the sight by the strength of my back. I dug the earth in a nearby field and carted sled after sled of earth back to seal the logs and make a chimney of earthen bricks. I sharpened branch after branch into a barricade of spikes to keep any wandering zombie from attacking us at night. Every morning I would start building, by midday, I went hunting or fishing in the nearby stream for food. Each night, I worked on the projects that kept us safe. I did it for Mariana and our unborn baby.

Many the time though, I had to have her help lift a log that my strained muscles couldn't lift alone. She cleaned the fish for me, cooked the meals, and kept me sane. She told me it would be OK. I was a fool. I believed her.

Thank God she was right though. I didn't know how hard it was for a woman her size to have a baby. I didn't learn that till one fall night when she woke me up screaming. I learned fast how to deliver a baby, and there was no greater joy than watching my son come into this world. I watched mom and son as they met for the first time, as my son took his first drink of milk. I vowed that he wouldn't die because we didn't have enough.

Maybe that's why we're still here. I had something to live for, to keep me pushing harder day after day. All I had to do was look at mother and son, and the tiredness would leave my muscles, the pain would leave my joints. I'd get back to work, and make it. I did it all for them, and now? How would I teach that to the newbies coming tomorrow?

I knew for a fact that they'd have to work every day. I had crops in the ground that needed tended. The border wall really needed someone on it all the time. Water needed to be constantly boiled to prevent contamination. Laundry would start to become an issue. Latrines would need to be dug well away from the water supply. The walls and spikes would need to be maintained and de-corpsed. Scouts would have to go raid the town for clothing, guns and ammunition and other supplies. There was just a list of things that would have to be done daily to survive.

Opening the door, I pulled my shotgun from the wall and began to wander the grounds, inspecting the new barracks that I'd built. I'd built it big enough to hold twenty people, and stocked it with beds and mattresses from a specialty store. Real luxurious considering I slept on the cold ground for the better part of a year. Past the barracks was a tool shed, another small building I'd built earlier to house the tools, and mainly just keep some sense of order cause I kept misplacing stuff.

On the north end, was the gate that led towards town. I had a few small storage buildings there, for food and other scavenged items. On the west side were my forge and garage area, and to the south was food preparation. All in all, it expanded three hundred feet away from the house in every direction to make a rudimentary square. Impressive, considering it took two years for me to build alone. Out past the southern wall, on an open field were my crops. I had corn growing, the shoots just starting to grow.

"Something wrong?"

I turned to see Mariana coming towards me, holding her 22 caliber assault rifle I scrounged out of a gun store. She was dressed simply, her t-shirt not tucked in or her boots tied. She came to stand in front of me, letting her rifle hang on its sling. She looked towards the cabin, our home where our baby still slept. At almost a year and a half old, he was walking with ease and could make simple sentences. He also required constant supervision.

"Just apprehensive about tomorrow. There's no telling what could happen."

"Sweetie, we're well stocked to handle a full class. We have beds enough for twenty to be comfortable, guns and bullets enough for everyone to fight. What can't we handle?"

"What if they don't want to fight? What if they won't work? What am I going to do?" It was infuriating.

"We will handle that when it comes. I think most of the kids coming tomorrow will be happy that there's a chance to survive. You do remember what it was like during our class? Everyone was afraid, our one hope was that if we went with you we'd at least be with someone. That was what we all fought for. What I won. And though I didn't think of ever having a child with you, it was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. They're going to have to figure it out for themselves, and maybe one day our child will have other kids to play with."

"One day, far away. Right?"

With a smile, she just started to walk back to the cabin, hips sashaying in the moonlight. Yea, I was a sucker for hips. But I was really hoping time would mellow me out. Now, when does a man hit his prime?

Chapter 2

Dawn. I awoke, got dressed and started my morning routine. Lately that meant walking the walls, checking for still living zombies. Thankfully there weren't any. Though we did have a few fresh ones. Going out into the woods, I began to look for animal tracks. Surprisingly, zombies didn't attack animals. Just us humans.

Heading down to the creek, I saw a large antlered deer taking a sip. Shouldering the shotgun, I took careful aim. With a gentle squeeze of the trigger, I put one right into his heart. With a stagger, he fell. Walking over to him, I tied a cord around his front legs and hauled him up a tree. After gutting the carcass, I left him to drain of blood. I hated hauling bloody animal carcasses. It stank.

As I sat waiting, I could hear the drone of rotor blades. Looking up, I saw a plane start to circle overhead. Leaving the carcass, I followed the descending plane as it came low to make a pass over the field. Standing there, I saw the plane circle once more before dropping its landing gear. With a gentle grace, it came low and landed. It came near and stopped, then the motors shut down. Silence once more settled on the area. I jogged over to the plane as they lowered the ramp. Several men came out, one briefly pointed his weapon at me, something like an AK-47, then moved on to secure the perimeter.

Next man down the ramp was a surprise, Captain Goodson, as stocky as ever. And he was smiling. About forty more were behind him, all gathering their packs.

"Well, my boy. Two years. In twenty five, you and Mariana are the first to have ever survived. Mind if we talk for a bit?"

"Sure, this way," leading the captain towards the nose of the plane. Once we were well past the nose, we started talking.

"It's gotten worse. We lost two more greenhouses, food rations are getting scarce. Even medical help is starting to get rationed. As you know, we usually only ship out the bottom of a graduating class, there's ninety-one in the plane. That's the entire class, from bottom to the top. They all the got the boot."

"All of them? That's harsh, even for the council."

"Yes. The City's in an uproar. Everyone's afraid the city's going to fail. In all the year's we had the city, it's never failed like this. More people are thinking of rebelling, but there's nowhere to go. And now we have you..."

"And my outpost is the next bastion of civilization. I'm going to need a bigger barracks."

"How big is it now?"

"I can house twenty. Give me a few days, we can house everyone."

"How is my daughter?"

"Doing well. She's happy, by the way, working on a special project at the cabin."

"Finally get her pregnant, did ya?"

I started laughing, if only he knew. "She's not pregnant. Not that I know of anyway."

"I want to ask you one more question. Would you mind taking on one more?"

"You? You know your daughter would tie me up for the zombies to kill if I said no."

"I'll get my gear."

Following him to the, back of the plane, I could see they had unloaded several carts containing crates, all secured and tied down. Goodson went in and came out with a backpack, and everyone turned to face me. A few of the guards walked over to join us, and the feeling of being the center of attention had my stomach doing enough flip flops to run a generator.

"Alright everyone, we're about to take a little walk. Since we have only one gun here, sing out if you see anything. Zombies can be fast, so don't waste time if you think you see one. People and dogs are about the only thing I've seen zombiefied so far, so that's what you need to look for. The walk is not far, but stay together. If anyone starts to lag behind, call out. We move as a group. Weapons, food, water, and beds are all waiting for you at the outpost. Let's move out!"

As a group, I started to lead them back to the gates, and when I looked back, the four guards looked at each other, then two started to follow. It didn't make sense, but then it did. The city was falling apart, so life there was a gamble, just like here. There, the Council was kicking innocents out to die. That's what they'd done to Mariana, to the others in our class. They were dead. Me and Mariana were the only survivors, ours the only other civilization besides the City.

Life was truly a bitch.

We came within sight of the north gates, and I unlocked the door set into the wall. Once through the door, I unlocked the main gate and swung them open to allow the carts inside. Once everyone had milled in, me and one of the guards swung the gate shut and we locked it, and I locked the side door back. Everyone sort of milled into the open area, still in a big group. The kids were still in shock, some probably from being exiled, some from the fact that I had built so much from nothing. It was time to figure out who and what I had to work with.

"Alright everyone, time to start surviving. First off, let me introduce myself. My name is Brian Howell. I am the first volunteer to enter what I like to call the Outlands. I started with little, and I built a lot. I have weapons, food, water, and a place to sleep. I have also built a forge, dug a well, stocked this place with supplies and done everything needed for immediate survival. But it is not enough. Nothing here is ever enough. That is your first lesson. The first rule here. Everyday you wake up, you will do something. Some of you will work metal. Some will tend the fields. Some will scout the nearby areas for supplies. Everyone will have a purpose.

"I know many of you were exiled, but there are three here, who it seems chose to be here. Your instructor, Captain Goodson, has decided to stay here with his daughter. That leaves the two guards from the plane. Will you step forward?"

The two guards came to stand at the front of the group, their AK's in their hands. They still looked unsure, but it wasn't the desperation and fear of the others, it was just the uncertainty of being the center of attention after a lifetime of being in the shadows.

"What's your name soldiers?"

"I'm Corporal Lyle Ridge," said the one on the right. He was about six foot, lean, with black hair.

"Corporal Harry Adamson." He was about five nine, more muscular, like a body builder with brown hair.

"Alright, what made you decide to stay."

Ridge was the first to speak, "The Council don't seem to care about us anymore. I watched my father die because they said he wasn't 'essential personnel'. I don't know how things are going to be here, but can they get any worse?"

"Hope not, but I don't think anyone can be unessential here as long as they work."

"I lost my older cousin to the Outlands. She wasn't the brightest bulb in the box, but to just kick her out and say 'good luck'? That ain't right. I can't support a group who just exiles people because they don't want to put the effort in to getting things right. Everything we need is out here, we built that city in the midst of chaos, and now when things are settled down we can't maintain it? It's incompetence. I'll be honest. I don't know you, but you ain't incompetent. You survived, and a man like that deserves respect. He's earned it."

"Good to know. For right now, I want you two to go man the towers. There's a walkway around the top of the wall. The plane made a lot of noise coming in so for today we're going to play it safe. You're right, I'm not incompetent. I'm paranoid."

The two looked at the walls, and headed for the nearby tower, I watched them climb up, then as they parted ways to walk the walls. For the first time in two years, the walls were manned by more than me and my wife. Looking at the group, it was time to divvy up the workers to their tasks. Goodson handed me a clipboard, containing the names of the new recruits, making me feel like a drill instructor with a bunch of new recruits. Then it gave me an idea, treat it like the military. Make everyone a recruit, and they earn there way up the ranks.

Deciding I had a good hold on the situation, I began to call out my first recruit when I heard the cabin door open.

"Hey, Brian. Got the newbies in line?"

Turning around, I looked back at my wife who was exiting the cabin, our son on her hip and her rifle in its sling around her neck. The movement made Captain Goodson turn, and nearly drop his jaw when he saw his grandson for the first time.

"My...my..."

"Grandson. She was already pregnant when we dropped. She found out days later. It's been a challenge, but after a year and a half, he's still alive. A survivor."


	27. Justice League Dark Tide

Chapter 1

For Elliot Fade, everything was going according to plan. He had just gotten the final piece to the puzzle he would need to conquer the world. He looked at the small stone of blue and silver. It was so simple, but so devastating. This one stone held Superman's weakness.

Magic.

Elliot wasn't a fool. He knew he was on a tightrope over a gorge. This had the potential to be his greatest victory, or his worst defeat. One shot. Winner take all. He just had to get the Man of Steel to shake his hand with the stone between them while he said the word of invocation. If he could do that, Superman's physical abilities would become his. While it wouldn't kill him, that loose end was easily tied once he had the boundless strength that had been displayed so many times.

He just had to get Superman alone and take his hand. Simple, right?

-o-0-o-

Superman slowly flew over Metropolis, eyes and ears searching for those who needed his help. He was thinking of going to a different city when he heard the cry for help. Swiftly moving to position, he caught the young man as he fell by catching the man's coat. He moved over to a nearby rooftop, and set him down.

"You ought to be more careful," Superman said.

"Yea, I was just sitting on the roof up there when my leg cramped up. My wrong move pushed me over the edge. Guess I need to be more careful," Elliot said, glad his ruse worked. He already had the small stone in his hand. Extending his hand, he was surprised when Superman shook it, then grinned as the power was pulled from the alien into him. The moment it was over, Superman fell to his knees, panting from exertion.

"What?" Superman said weakly, trying to look up at the man who had stolen his strength. He felt like kryptonite was at his knees, but didn't feel the sickness that went with it. Just weak.

Elliot could feel the power Superman had, power he now controlled. Magic was always the Man of Steel's greatest weakness, as much or more than kryptonite. As a non magical entity, Superman was never able to defend himself from magical attacks, and a magical blade easily drew blood. Now, with Superman's biology, he was one step closer to world domination. He was the most powerful man alive. Now to make sure no one found out early. Concentrating the power in his eyes, he released a powerful heat beam that incinerated the body of his victim to a small pile of ash, then gave a breath of air that spread it on the wind.

With the body disposed of, he willed himself into the air. He had one thing to take care of, and he had to take care of it fast. Taking note of his position, he flew for Gotham. The Dark Knight was waiting.

Chapter 02

Batman was sitting as still as a gargoyle when he heard the characteristic thump of a flier land behind him. Batman could hear the man's heavy foot fall as he approached, and he only knew one man on the planet with a step that heavy. The reflection in his binoculars though, told him there were now two.

"And you are?" he asked, without looking back.

"A new player on the field. I came to ask you a question." His voice was even and steady, none of the trepidation new heroes displayed when asking to join.

"League recruiting usually happens at the Hall of Justice."

"I'm recruiting for a different purpose."

Batman stood, turning to see the six foot two tall man with broad shoulders and dark hair in a military cut. "Not interested in working for the government."

The guy chuckled. "Funny you should say that. I'm starting my own. I'm going to take over the world. In or out."

"Out." Batman squinted at the man as his eyes took on the red tint Clark's did when he used his heat vision. It was adding up to a fourth Kryptonian on Earth. He quickly pulled the kryptonite piece out of his belt. Clark was bad enough when he went rogue, this man could be trouble.

"Pity. Superman didn't sign up either." Then he let loose the heat beams out of his eyes. Batman barely had time to duck to the side.

Fade was surprised at how fast Batman was. For a human to out do his power? He chuckled, this might actually be fun. He came around the vent to see a small green rock glowing underneath him. He felt his power leaving him, making him weak. He kicked the piece off the roof before it could weaken him more. Stepping around the shed, Batman went wide eyed at seeing the him still standing tall. He looked at Fade, then ran for the edge. "J'onn, emergency!"

He sailed over the edge, launching his grappling hook at the farthest target it would hit. He was almost positive he had bought enough time for reinforcements to arrive when it happened. Pain shot through his back, to his chest, and down his legs. Behind that sensation came the numbness. If his eyes were not already on his hand, he never would have noticed his grip slipped. He fell into open space, too in shock to scream. He closed his eyes and waited, grateful he was high enough that when he hit the pavement, he would die instantly. Like so many times before, he was right.

-o-0-o-

"Batman, do you copy?" J'onn asked again into the comm system. Ever since Batman had tried to comm in, J'onn had tried to pinpoint where the signal had come from. He had been across the command room at the time, but Batman had as yet to check in. He had tried checking for Batman's earpiece, but it was offline.

"J'onn, it's Commissioner Gordon from Gotham City. He's asking for you," one of the techs said.

Picking up the receiver, he briefly wondered if the Commissioner had any information on Batman. "J'onn here."

"J'onn, I'm in front of the Gotham Art Institute. Send a team here immediately."

"I'm sorry, Commissioner, but we have an emergency at the moment. Batman is..."

"Dead. He's dead J'onn. I'm standing over the body. I'm doing my best to keep the news crews away right now."

"A team will be there within a minute." he said, then hung up the phone. Tapping the intercom button, "Emergency beamout in thirty seconds. Flash, Hawkgirl, S.T.R.I.P.E., Vigilante, Shining Knight, Stargirl, Red Tornado, you're up. Secure the scene. Investigative team will be there shortly."

As the eight Justice League members got on the pad, he started to think of who to send to investigate. Batman was always the lead investigator, but now… He shook his head. The Question was probably the best the League had now. Looking up, Shining Knight was the last on the pad. He engaged the transporter, then commed Question. "Question, report to the control room immediately."

"Can't it wait?"

"Batman is dead. I need you to…"

"There in two."

J'onn knew the death of Batman was going to instill a lot of fear in the League. Even Darkseid had failed to kill anyone. Now one of the original seven was dead. He opened a comm channel. He had to get a hold of Superman.

Chapter 3

With all the cops heading into town, no one noticed the lone man circling over Arkham Asylum. Fade dropped down and destroyed the high security door. His own strength still surprised him. Following the signs, he went into the criminally insane wing. At a junction, he decided to go left, and was surprised to find a beautiful redhead behind a glass partition. The name on the glass said Dr. Pamela Isley/Poison Ivy

"Don't recognize you. You new?"

"In a way. I'm recruiting. Going to take over the world."

She began laughing. "Guys are on the other side. Go pick out your cell now, because Batman and the League will put you in it before long."

"Batman's dead." He began pulling out a cell phone as Poison Ivy laughed harder.

"Batman is dead? Better men than you have tried," she laughed, nearly falling off her bed as she laughed. When Fade held up the live news feed, she stopped laughing. The main photo was a shot of Batman lying in a pool of blood, while cops stood around taking pictures. The caption read 'Batman dead?'

"You killed him? How?"

"Not only him. Superman too."

"Superman?"

"I'm taking down the League. Those that swear loyalty to me will have spots in my new world order. Those that don't, don't live."

"I'm in."

Fade smashed his hand through the glass, letting her out. He then walked to the cage beside her, the glass was marked Dr. Harleen Quinzel/Harley Quinn. He raised his eyes. "What's with the doctors names? Are they your psychiatrists?"

"No, I'm Dr. Isley. This is Dr. Quinzel. Though, we preferred to be called Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn, respectively."

"Noted." He stood in front of the glass, as a blond girl stopped watching cartoons and looked at them.

"Red? You busting out?"

"Yes, Harls. Got a new boss. This guy has killed Batman, and says he killed Superman."

The blond rushed the glass. "You killed Bats? How? Me and Mr. J been trying for years!"

"I've got the power and not afraid to use it."

"So Harls, in or out?"

"Are we busting Mr. J?"

"If he agrees, Harls. Our new employer is rather strict about his employment opportunities."

"I'm in," she said happily.

Fade continued down the hall, going cell by cell. Most of the prisoners refused, mad that they themselves didn't get the Bat. Fade was happy to prove that crossing him was unwarranted. He had Poison Ivy, and Harley Quin. A few others whose name he hadn't learned were burned alive in their cells.

Going over to the men's side, he found it was far worse. Not one of them would follow his cause. Going into the Maximum Security section, he found the situation was just as bad here. The last cell didn't even have a full name. It was only marked Joker.

"Mr. J! Your puddin's here!"

"Harley! You got out! I knew you would!"

"Stand back Joker, he's going to rip the door off," Ivy said, pulling Harley away so Fade could free the most insane villain Batman had ever faced. Fade was almost disappointed that the door was so easily removed, expecting it to be stronger, as if steel itself could keep the Joker's insanity in check. Once he had the door set aside, Harley rushed in, embracing the lunatic. Fade wasn't surprised, Harley seemed to be a few bricks short on her pallet too.

"So Harley, got yourself a new lackey?"

"Actually Mr. J, I work for him. He's killed Batman."

The Joker actually looked stunned. "He killed Batman? How?!" He looked over to Fade. "You actually killed Batman? I've been trying for years!"

"How's not important," he started, when Joker got in his face.

"How is always important! It has to be done with panache, with style! You don't just sit back with a sniper rifle and pick off the greatest adversary of all time!"

"Actually, I hit him in the back with a fist. Instantly paralyzed him. He died falling fifteen stories to the pavement, head first."

"In the back," Joker muttered, turning away from Fade. "I can't work with people like him Harley. They don't get the joke."

Harley knew what was about to happen, "Mr. J you gotta..."

"His mind is made up Harley, step aside," Fade ordered.

Joker looked back at Fade, curious. "Harls?"

"I'm not leaving loose ends. I've seen too many heroes win because the villain left a loose end. Well, I'm going to learn from your mistakes. I've killed everyone who hasn't taken my offer. And now, that means you."

Fade rushed Joker, using his super speed to grab hold of him and throw hard against the wall. Joker started to get up, while Ivy held Harley back. Fade then unleashed his heat beams, incinerating the Joker where he knelt.

"Mr. J!" Harley screamed as she finally got free of Ivy. "You bastard, you killed him!"

Harley started to cry over the burnt remains of the Joker. "I'll get you for this."

Fade heard the whisper, then frowned. He was hoping to come away from this with more than just one person. Arkham Asylum might be full of crazies, but they stood up against the League. Seeing Ivy look at Harley Quinn also made him realize that even those that swore to help him might turn on him. Well, one way of killing two birds with one stone, he thought.

"Kill her," he said softly, allowing Harley's sobs to hide the death order.

"H-how?"

"Doesn't matter. Do it, or I kill you too."

Ivy looked shocked, but started towards her friend. When she reached her, she knelt down beside her, and put an arm around her. Harley didn't look up, so Ivy tilted her head back. Harley looked into her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. Ivy kissed her on the lips. Harley never even tried to pull away.

After the kiss, Harley whimpered, "But, Red, aren't you-your..."

Harley started to convulse in Ivy's arms. Ivy held her tight, a tear rolling down her cheek as Harley finally quit convulsing. Ivy held her for a moment before laying her on top of the Joker. She was going to miss Harley. The platinum blond might have been a nutcase, but she was a true friend.

"She was important to you, wasn't she?"

"She was a friend, one of the few I had," she whispered, standing up.

Elliot looked at her, could practically see her temperature rise. "I'm sorry. But I wasn't lying. I have watched you villains make some of the silliest decisions and fail because of it. I intend to learn from your mistakes, to not fail, to take over. And the first failure I will correct is allowing a psychopath the chance to gum up the works!"

"I understand. But I don't like it." Was she signing her own death warrant by saying that?

"Next stop, let this all sink in to the heroes. So that means we lay low."

"There's an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Gotham. I sometimes use it as a hideout."

"Good," Elliot said, then shouldered his way through the wall. It really was amazing that anyone was kept in this place. Well, maybe that's how they kept getting out. Poison Ivy came over, and he grabbed her around the waist and flew off.


	28. MASH 4077 Frozen Doctor

Chapter 01

Colonel Potter sat at his desk and leaned back in his chair. He had been surprised at seeing Colonel Baldwin visit his camp, as Baldwin was the head administrator of Tokyo General. He was also the man to see for getting a new doctor, and his brain could only ponder the meaning of this visit. He had requested permission to talk to the camp's medical staff, and Radar was rounding up the usual suspects.

BJ was the first to enter, followed by Hawkey. Both looked as if Radar had just woken them up in the Swamp. Father Mulcahy was the next through the door, bright eyed and bushy tailed as always. Major Houlihan was next, as clean cut and professional as he could expect, and the last through the door was Major Winchester, still wearing his lab coat from his post on Post-Op.

"Well, isn't this a surprise," Major Winchester started as he saw Colonel Baldwin. "Did you bring me my six-hundred-seventy-two dollars and seventeen cents?"

"Even better Winchester," Baldwin states with a smile on his face. "I got only paper for you."

"Sorry, I don't take checks," he said with a smile on his face.

"How about a transfer order?" he said back. Potter watched Winchester's jaw drop open as he was taken aback by the words. He looked at Baldwin, not happy with the situation himself. "Immediate transfer to Fort Devan Military Hospital in Boston."

"And what am I supposed to do for a surgeon?" Potter barked. "Winchester is a damn fine doctor, and we need good doctors here or we'll lose more patients!"

"Easy, Potter," he said, holding up his hand. "We already have a replacement coming in to take Winchester's place."

"Boston," Winchester finally breathed, moving to sit in a chair as he took it all in.

"Who's this doctor you're bringing in?" Potter asked, not sure if he liked the idea of an unknown coming in.

"Haven't got the file yet, but I know he's fresh out of residency," he said.

"Great, another kid," Potter grumbled. He didn't like the idea of having rookie doctors in his MASH, there was no way of telling whether or not they could handle the meatball surgery and the war without going loco. "When will he get here?"

"Few days," Baldwin said. "Maybe tomorrow. Captain McQueen is headed this way like a whirlwind fast as the army can fly him here."

"Great, another captain," BJ said with a false sense of cheer. "Forgive me colonel, but aren't we due a major?"

"Quite right, captain," he said with a smirk on his face. "That's why we're promoting Captain Pierce to major."

Potter looked at Pierce who exploded out of his seat like he'd sat on a pin.

"Oh, no no no no," he said, holding up his hands. "You're not promoting me!"

"You are ranking surgeon, are you not?" Baldwin asked him.

"He is, and the best cutter I got," Potter told him.

"Then its settled," Baldwin said is if that were all that mattered. "Pierce will replace Winchester as Major, with rights, responsibilities and benefits thereof, effective immediately."

"Oh, great," Pierce said, throwing up his hands in defeat. "You leave the war to me and I'll tell everyone to go home."

"Pierce, settle down," Potter told his new major. "Is there anything else, colonel?"

"No," Baldwin said shaking his head. "I'll give the major thirty minutes to pack, then I'm heading back to Tokyo. The major can hitch a ride on the next plane to Boston."

Potter saw only a blur as Winchester headed for the Swamp to pack up. He couldn't blame the man, he was given a ticket home and he took it. Hell, if he were given a ticket to Hannibal, Missouri, or if Pierce or Hunnicut were given a ticket home, they'd likely be just as blurry packing up.

"Well, if that concludes our business, think I'll have a drink at the O-club before I head home," he said, then stepped out the door.

Potter stayed where he was, looking at his still flabbergasted chief surgeon. He figured the boy was about to burst. "Easy, son," he said to Hawkeye. "Nothing changes in your day to day life. You're still bunking in the Swamp, and I won't leave you in charge if I don't have to. You're too young to be placed in command of a MASH, and not experienced enough to be made a colonel. The only thing that's changed is your pay grade. You'll make an extra seventy dollars a month, and the only person left in camp that can give you a direct order from this point on is me, and you know how often I give orders."

"Yeah," he said, sighing in defeat. "Just, me? A major? If Frank could see me now."

"He'd be having fits," Potter agreed with him. "This also puts you on the same level as Margaret."

"You know she's loving this," he said with a grin as he finally got up, BJ standing with him.

"Come on, Hawk," BJ said as he wrapped an arm around his friends shoulders. "Let's go have a celebratory drink back at the Swamp."

"Too bad we can't arrange something for Charles before he goes," Pierce said as they stepped through the doors.

"I was just thinking the same thing," BJ said as they left. Potter just shook his head, glad he didn't hear anything that he would have to stop. He really didn't want to start Pierce's new rank with a disciplinary action.

"Lord help us," Potter muttered when it finally settled in that should anything happen to him, Hawkeye was now the first person he'd be forced to call on to act as his replacement. That thought was unsettling, to say the least.

=o=0=o=

"Almost there, ma'am," her driver said as they rounded a bend in the road. Newly minted officer Captain Elsa McQueen sat in the passenger seat of the Jeep on her way to her new posting.

She was nervous, and she couldn't help but fret over what her fellow doctors would think of her. Women in medicine wasn't a common occurrence, and she was told by her commanding officers that they had yet to train a female doctor before her. She had applied herself to her training, surprising many of her male peers in the Army with her ability to cover distance at a run, even going so far to outrun many of the men who were training to go to the front lines.

She thought of her sister Anna, back home and safe in Arendelle, Wisconsin. She had married Kristoff just before she had left for training, and was able to attend the wedding if in a dress uniform. She silently hoped that the war wouldn't touch their family again, but unless it was over quickly, doubted it would. There was little she could do about the war itself, except patch up the soldiers as best she could and get them back on their feet.

Soon they topped over a hill and she got her first look at the MASH 4077. A small cluster of Army green tents around one tent with see-through netting. Her driver pulled them up to the only permanent style building in camp, and stopped the Jeep. A shorter man with round glasses stepped out of the building's double doors. Elsa could see by his stripes that he was only a corporal, and he promptly saluted as she stepped out of the Jeep.

"Hello, Corporal," she said with a smile. "I need to see your commanding officer."

"Yes, sir, ma'am, captain," he said nervously as he pulled her bag and trunk from the rear of the Jeep. "If you will follow me, sir, ma'am," he said in a nervous tone.

He led her into the building, depositing her bag in the company clerks chair, realizing that this was probably the company clerk as he set her trunk down by his desk. He just seemed so young, but was probably just a draftee fresh out of high school. He led her through another set of double doors, this one a set of swinging doors. Behind the desk sat another man, wearing similar round glasses though he was far older, probably in his fifties or sixties. In a way, he reminded her of Grandpabbie, the grizzled old doctor of her hometown.

"Colonel Potter, a Captain McQueen here to see you," he said, probably having read her name off her name tag.

"Oh good," he said, not raising his head to see her. "Show him in."

"Um, she's here," the corporal said, and the colonel's head snapped up and he took her in.

She snapped to attention, giving him a proper salute as she'd been taught. "Captain Elsa McQueen, your new surgeon, sir," she said, holding her salute until the colonel dismissed her with a salute of his own.

"Radar, round up the staff," he said to the corporal, and he hurried out of the room without a salute. Potter gestured to a chair in front of his desk. "Take a seat, captain, the gang will be here in a bit."

"Thank you, sir," she said, taking a seat. "It seems to be pretty relaxed around here."

"It is," he said nodding in agreement. "Out of everyone here, I'm one of the few people who is regular Army. Everyone else is draftees, especially the other doctors."

"Other doctors, sir? Are you a surgeon yourself?" she asked, looking at the aged man.

"That I am," he said, a smile on his face. "Learned how just after World War One, back when I was cavalry. I'm a career man, but this will be my last posting. After this, I plan to retire back to Hannibal, Missouri and hang out my shingle."

"Small town country doctor, sir?" she asked, smiling.

"That I will be," he said as the doors opened to reveal a blonde woman in green fatigues and black sweater and another man she figured to be the chaplain judging by his white cassock. Behind them came two more men, one in a purple bathrobe and straw cowboy hat, the other in his green fatigues. "Alright class, let's introduce our latest addition to the camp. Everyone, this is Captain Elsa McQueen, our new surgeon."

"Hey, welcome to the party," BJ said as he extended his hand.

"Captain, this is Major Houlihan," Potter continued, watching as Elsa snapped a salute rather than shaking Margaret's hand. Margaret was momentarily startled by the new captain's military attitude, but returned the salute promptly. "The man in the cowboy hat is Major Pierce, chief surgeon and my second in command."

"Major," Elsa said also saluting Hawkeye who shook his head.

"Elsa, let's get one thing straight between us. The only thing GI about me is my athlete's foot," he said sourly. "To wit, if you ever salute me again, I'll have you supervising latrine detail and doing Officer of the Day duty."

"Yes, sir, major," she said falling into parade rest. Potter had the brief idea that she could actually make a decent soldier if she stuck with it.

Elsa for her part didn't blame the major for his sour attitude, likely not liking the war and now being charged with so much responsibility. She let it go, figuring that it was best to keep some friends around her.

"The man in the white collar is our chaplain, Lieutenant Mulcahy," Potter informed her, and Elsa extended her hand and shook with the man.

"Catholic?" Elsa asked him and he nodded.

"Certainly," he said with a smile on his face. "Shall I be expecting your face in morning service?"

"Certainly, Father," she said smiling back at him.

"Last but not least, fellow surgeon Captain BJ Hunnicut," Potter said and BJ waved sheepishly.

"So where do you hail from?" BJ asked her as they spread around the office and took various seats.

"Arendelle, Winsconsin," Elsa said, noting each person and where they sat. "I was raised there until I moved to Milwaukee to attend medical college."

"Bet your parents were beside themselves," Margaret said, and Elsa slowly shook her head.

"I lost my parents just before my eighth birthday," she said and everyone gasped in shock. Potter shook his head, but Elsa just pressed on. "Arendelle's resident doctor and wise old man, Grandpabbie, took me and my sister, Anna, in. He sold our families farm but put the money aside so we'd have it later. Anna and I would tend his chickens and clean the clinic to pay our keep."

"Caring guy," BJ said.

"Salt of the earth, for sure," Father Mulcahy added.

"He was," Elsa said, smiling at a recollection. "He was the one who noticed my aptitude for medicine, and pushed for me to become a doctor. Up to then, I was going to become a nurse. I couldn't help not going though, because he was right; I am a good surgeon and graduated top of my class."

"What we do a lot of around here is meatball surgery," Hawkeye explained to her. "We don't have time to get fancy, we just patch them up and keep them from dying. To that end, we have a ninety-nine percent success rate."

"That's incredible," Elsa breathed, placing a hand over her mouth.

"And it can create some long days," BJ explained. "When choppers and ambulances start bringing in the wounded, we can work days on end. We take breaks as needed, but for the most part, it's a long grueling session in OR."

"Sounds rough," Elsa said.

"It can be," Potter said. "And it's..."

" _Incoming wounded_!" the camp intercom sounded. " _All medical personnel to the_ _OR_!"

"Time to get baptized," Potter said as everyone filed out the door.

"Just keep it simple and if you need help, all you have to do is ask," BJ said as they left the office.

"Thank you, doctors," Elsa said following the others out the door and into the scrub area. It promised to be a long day.

=o=0=o=

It was late in the night when the surgery was complete. Elsa felt every bit of the pain that standing for hours on end caused as she huddled over a patient and tried to save their life. She also had gotten a first hand taste of Hawkeye's unique brand of humor as they swapped stories as they worked. Hawkeye was indeed the best surgeon she had ever seen, as evidenced by the sheer number of patients the man had worked on. Elsa had always considered herself skilled, but the man was easily able to do double the work that she was able to perform.

She'd gotten some ribbing for being slow, and the other doctors had shown her the shortcuts that had been worked out to cut down on surgical time, improving the patients chances at recovering with no adverse affects and a decreased recuperation time.

Now though, she was tired, and not knowing where to go, just followed BJ, Hawkeye and Potter to a place they called the Swamp. It was nothing spectacular, four beds in the corners all pointed to the center where a stove was placed. Netting covered the walls, allowing the occupants a breeze, but even in the dim light of camp she could see the rolled up canvas that could be dropped to protect from rain.

"So, tell me Elsa," Hawkeye started as they sat in chairs. Elsa also had one of her own, and she saw her bag was on a bed just to the left of the door as she entered. "How do you like your martini?"

"In a glass?" she said sheepishly. "I've always studied hard and hardly ever touched alcohol."

"All work and no play makes Jane a very dull girl," BJ said as he handed her a martini glass full of their homemade brew.

Elsa took the glass, sipping its contents. It was very bitter, at least to her, and tasted somewhat sour. "You drink this?" she asked them.

"Well, it helps take the edge off after hours in OR," Hawkeye told her. "You did good work, by the way, though we didn't have any really difficult cases to deal with."

"You don't call pulling shrapnel out of a kids spleen difficult?" Elsa asked them, and they shook their heads.

"That's routine around here," Potter told her as he lounged in a chair beside BJ, who sat on his cot. "It's the kids who come through here missing good chunks of their legs that are the worst."

"That must be awful," Elsa said, taking another swig from her martini glass. Her head already felt light, and she knew she had to be careful, she didn't have any tolerance for alcohol.

"It is," Potter said, taking a swig of his own. "We get boys in here looking like they should be learning what goes on in the backseat of a car at a drive-in with wounds no body should ever have. I've never been much for alcohol, but even I have to admit to needing a few drinks to help deal with the mess we go through."

"Amen to that," Hawkeye said as he drank deep from his glass. "So, before we got so rudely interupted by the war, you have any siblings back home?"

"A sister," Elsa told them. "She's a few years younger than me. She married a man named Kristoff. I was there for the wedding, but shipped out for officer training the next day. She's probably working on her first baby now."

"That doctor that raised you is probably going to be grinning ear to ear delivering that baby," Potter said with a smile on his face.

"He will, but Anna and I had discussed that I was going to be there doing the delivering when the time came," Elsa said as she continued to drink. BJ refilled all the glasses, including Elsa's, then she continued. "Does the war ever get close?"

"Sometimes," Potter said. "We bug out if it gets too hot near us. We try to stay about at least a mile or two away from the front."

"So far?" Elsa said, choking on the homemade hooch after incidentally swallowing too much at Potter's words. "I would have thought we'd be farther away."

"You think this is bad, you ought to try a first aid station," Hawkeye told her.

"Is that at the front?" Elsa asked him and all three doctors nodded their head.

"It's the second step in saving a life," BJ told her. "The first is the medic that travels with the soldiers. He puts the bandage on that keeps the soldier from bleeding out, and has him delivered to the first aid station. There, light wounds are loaded into ambulances while more serious wounds have a doctor throw some light stitching in to keep them alive while they get transported here."

"Where we do the stitching and piecing together," Elsa said, following their train of thought. "I guess there's a hospital we send them too when they can travel?"

"Tokyo General if they need months of intense care," Potter told her. "The less serious cases end up in Seoul. Either way, we get 'em stable and ship 'em off."

Elsa nodded, knowing she was getting drunk. She got up and went to her bag, then looked around the small tent. "I guess I'll be bunking here?"

"By doggies, we forgot about that," Potter said, shaking his head. "We didn't get a chance to even discuss it before we had to get to work. I guess we can always bunk you in with Margaret."

"Here will be fine unless the major or captain have any objections," Elsa told them. "All I'd need is a screen to change behind

"Hey colonel, how do I put someone on latrine detail?" Hawkeye asked as he started to slouch on his cot, hat covering the upper part of his face and not catching Elsa's wince as she realized what she had just said.

"Let me handle this, Pierce," Potter told him. "Elsa, I'm not one for issuing orders, mostly I just let people go at their own pace. But for the love of peace around here, please pretend that this is just another small town in America, and don't refer to anyone but Major Houlihan by their rank."

"Yes, sir," Elsa told him. "Is Major Houlihan one of the other regular Army soldiers on base?"

"No, she's just a stickler for the rules," BJ told her. "She used to have an accomplice that wanted to turn this into a regular Army post with strict adherence to the rules. I was never so glad when Colonel Potter showed up."

"Be that as it may, I don't want any more problems in this camp," Potter told her sternly. "Relax off the Army protocol a bit. If you want to hang around and become regular Army, do it after the war."

"Yes, si...sure," she said, remebering what Colonel Potter had said.

"Good," he said, taking another swig of his gin.

"So bunkie," BJ said, refilling their glasses again. "Hope you don't snore at night."

"Um, no, I don't snore," Elsa told them as she began to settle herself in. "I have been known to kick a bit though."

"Consider us warned," BJ teased her as Elsa stood and looked at the two empty beds.

"Your bags, ma'am," the corporal said, bringing in her traveling bag and trunk.

"Set them down by the bed in that corner," she said, indicating Winchester's old bunk.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, setting her stuff down. "I'll be right back with your bedding."

"Thank you, corp..." she began to say, then remembered the colonel's order about backing off on the military mindset.

"Radar, ma'am," he told her as he stopped at the door.. "Everyone calls me Radar. It's because I seem to know what's going to happen before it happens."

"Thank you, Radar," Elsa said as she moved her bag to the side, deciding to unpack in the morning. She was tipsy from the swill that she drinking, and like Major Pierce, was tired and wanting to rest.


	29. SOASE Rise of the Scourge Brotherhood

Sins Of A Solar Empire Rise of the Scourge Brotherhood

Chapter 1

Sitting on the deck of my Ragnarov class Titan, the ' _Hammer_ ,' I gave all credit to my fouling mood to the lack of activity in my systems lately. Not that I really minded not being raided again and having to rebuild and repair ships, but just sitting here was boring.

My mind wandered back to my quarters where Jasmine would be cleaning and thought about going and tormenting the poor woman, but decided not to. She'd been behaving lately, keeping things clean and neat in the spacious rooms, that I figured she needed a reward, and that reward would be not having her body violated.

Thoughts of Jasmine then proceeded to the other girls like her that were kept aboard the _Hammer_ , and other ships in the fleet. Under a process started by my predecessor, Nimitz, after a battle we'd round up the escape pods and search the debris for survivors. Most of the survivors would be forwarded on to slave labor camps where they'd mine for metal and crystal. Some, those that were deemed rather beautiful, were kept in special cells for use as prostitutes.

Jasmine was one such find whom I kept as a personal slave, courtesy of a Confederacy Star Forces raid some months back, or Confederacy for short. She was tall and honey skinned, with raven hair and large brown eyes and had a rack large enough to use for a pillow. When I first acquired her, she was rather willful and proud, and would fight back at the drop of a hat.

It had been a long, slow road breaking her spirit, and I loved every minute of it. Now, she was meeker, more gentle, only rarely talking back to me. She'd certainly last longer than most of the girls we kept aboard our ship. Most went catatonic after several months, requiring their bodies either be placed on some sort of medical support or allowed to die. Since there was no chance of them recovering, it was deemed best to just allow them to pass on.

Sighing, I stood and began to move around the bridge, stretching my large six foot two inch frame. I couldn't help but not think of the process we put the girls through, having a dedicated wing off the main hangar bay to process the survivors and nearby cells to hold them all. It was only later that we pulled out the more beautiful women for our personal use and took them to the medical bay. There we sterilized them and made sure none had any diseases that might spread. After that, we'd strip them of their clothes and fit them with a collar that had an attached device that shocked them silly if they left their designated area, which for most of them was a ten foot square room with attached bathroom.

Jasmine, as my personal slave, was restricted to my quarters. She was also the luckiest of the girls, as she only ever had to deal with me and no one was allowed to touch her. Such had been the case for Tina, Nimitz's personal girl whom I inherited after he had died and left me in charge. I had kept her for several days, but had eventually retired her to the labor camps. She was happy to go, I think, and then I had selected Jasmine.

Shaking my head, I forced myself to look at the galactic map. I didn't send out scouts much anymore, as the other faction's starbase defenses tended to obliterate them as soon as they arrived, giving me nothing more than a snapshot of their system. It also was a good way of sending men to their death, so I didn't bother with it.

As such, I didn't much know what was going on past my borders, whom controlled what and such. Some of us in charge did still comm each other on the old fleet admirals channel, sometimes to laugh at a failed raid or to try and make deals. To that end, I knew of half a dozen factions that had sprouted with the fall of the Traders Emergency Coalition, or TEC.

My neighbors were the Confederacy Star Forces to my galactic north, the Hunter Space Group to my northwest, and Star Federation Flotilla to my west. On my eastern side I had the Advent, whom rarely contacted us at all. The last time they had was to ask for a bribe of crystal or they'd invade Crion, a system I controlled on the verge of their space.

That had been a fierce battle, as the Advent had poured nearly two hundred ships into my system with a single jump. It was also the battle that made me the Warlord of the Scourge Brotherhood, as an Advent ship had suicided itself by plunging into the bridge. In the damage and fallout that followed, Nimitz had a heartattack and left me in charge to rout the invaders, which I did.

And now, here I was, bored.

"Sir, incoming comm," one of the techs said. I moved quickly to my chair, taking my seat to face the galactic map as President Elsa Snow of the Star Federation materialized her bust over my galactic map. She looked haggard, as if she hadn't slept at all last night, but there were no scars on the high quality recreation holo I was presented.

"Morning, President Snow," I said, acknowledging her transmission and title. It was an old tradition, one that had been handed down from our TEC days to both start the conversation and acknowledge that the transmission was coming through.

"Good morning, Warlord Hodges," she said cordially, telling me the connection was working both ways. "I need to ask a favor of you?"

I smirked at that, figuring she was finally about to start her own raiding along my border. "A cup of sugar, perhaps?" I said, making a joke of it. She smiled at that, and it somehow lightened her mood.

"I need you to allow a Confederacy armada through several of your systems to my space," she asked, once she had regained her composure and the smile faded from her face. I bowed my head, wondering if I had heard her right.

"A Confederacy armada?" I reiterated, finally shaking my head at the thought of standing down my defenses to allow so many warships access to my space.

"About forty to sixty ships," she said, and then blanched. "Along with several capital ships."

So I had heard her right. "Do you know the kind of damage that armada could do if they turned on me?" I spoke slowly, emphasizing my words.

"I realize it is a lot to ask," she told me.

"It's really too much," I nearly snapped. I knew Elsa Snow had only recently acquired her post from her father, but I was hoping she knew more about negotiations than this.

"Snow...Elsa," I said, trying to get close to her emotionally so I could talk sense to her. "I know you and Becky get along great. You have wonderful navies that would be great on a real raid. But why in blue blood hell are you trying to sneak an armada through my systems?"

"The Horde broke through my fleet at Veuter," she told me, and I watched as one of my techs switched the planet from her control to Horde control. I could see how that was causing her problems, as Veuter was one of her chokeholds for keeping unwanted fleets out. "I lost control, but I made them pay for it. I have two fleets covering Ghanon and Orias, but they've reinforced their fleet and I can't rout them on my own."

"How long have they had Veuter?" I asked her, wondering if they'd have time to shore up before help could get there.

"The battle just concluded an hour ago," she told me, and I nodded. That would be why she had a tired look to her. She'd likely been up all night commanding her forces against a Horde raid, even if she hadn't been part of it herself. "I lost two capital ships and over fifteen frigates and several cruisers. Several frigates were stranded without engines, and I can only imagine the horror the crew is being forced to endure at Horde hands."

I leaned over my knees, as if to contemplate my shoes. Even as bad as I could be, the thought she had just put in my head made me sick to my stomach. The Horde as I knew of them were barbarians to the core and would gut the crews alive just to hear them scream. I'd also heard tales and seen broadcasts that were front and center in my mind and making me queasy.

"I suppose you have a deal made with Becky?" I asked finally, though I kept my pale face hidden from view.

"President Cunningham and I have made a treaty," she told me as I continued to examine the polish of my shoes. "She will come down and help me retake Veuter, but I have to guarantee safe passage."

I nodded my understanding, then began to try and figure out how to profit from the situation. I didn't need credits, metals or crystal as my coffers were already full. So, what did I really need besides a way to alleviate boredom?

"What are you willing to offer?" I asked, if only to keep the conversation going.

"He's one jump off Halderas," she said, and I raised an eyebrow. "It's my base of operations, and where I'm currently broadcasting from."

"So, one good push, and he's knocking on your front door," I clarified, and she finally lowered her head. I could tell, my shoes were rather highly polished today. I'd have to thank Jasmine for that later. Maybe she'd enjoy a proper meal and not just freeze-dried rations fresh from the mess.

"Riddle commed me after the raid," she started, then hung her head. "He's coming for me. Wants to turn me into his personal slave to practice his horrors on."

"Hmm," I said, nodding. "And the Hunters?"

"The Hunters refused me outright," she admitted. "It'll take a day, maybe two for Becky to get her fleet in, and time is running out."

"So, again, what are you offering?" I asked her, looking up into her eyes. I could see the fear there, just behind the surface, and knew she was scared shitless.

"I'll give you almost anything you want," she admitted, and I smiled inwardly. "Just name it."

"Well," I said, wondering if she'd go along with it. "First I should ask, what's going to become of Becky's fleet after you retake Veuter?"

"Don't know," she said, but again, something in her posture spoke to me. She did know, but wasn't talking. "This is a one way passage. If she wants her fleet back, she can deal with you for it."

"Fair enough," I said, slouching in my seat. "I'll take you."

"Me?" she said, and began stammering. "B-b-but I'm the president!"

"Not forever, for three weeks," I said, watching her squirm at my proposal. "For three weeks, you'll come and be mine."

"I have fleets to oversee!" she countered. "What if something happens! I can't lose more ships!"

"If your 'offensive' works, Riddle won't be able to counter-attack for all of those three weeks," I told her. "It'll take that long to remake his frigates and capital ships, let alone find crew and command staff to replace those he lost."

"Be that as it may, I also have to replace frigates and capital ships and also crew and command staff," she said sternly. "Becky's fleet is only a stop-gap measure to keep me from losing more ground."

"Which you can't get without my approval," I said, smiling like the cat who licked the cream. "Of course, I can deny your request, which leaves you in the lurch. Becky won't risk open war with me just to blaze her way to you, and sending twice the fleet just to get you half of what you requested isn't good business. Again, the Hunters won't allow her through their space, so Becky's fleet stays home. Riddle is two jumps away from your bed, and you know as well as I do your replacements might buy you time, maybe a day or more, but in the end he will have you. My way, you'll be back on your own in a few weeks. Riddle's way? You might survive three weeks, but you'll beg to die every day until you adorn his hull."

Elsa seemed to deflate, and she put her head in her hands. I think she was just now starting to realize how screwed she was. She took a few deep breaths before she looked up, and I saw the faintest hint of a tear stain at the corner of her left eye.

"Three weeks is too long," she finally said in almost a whisper. "I'll give you three days."

My heart nearly leaped at that, and I was surprised she was willing to negotiate on those terms. Most women I'd ever met made it the last thing they'd ever part with. Even with Jasmine, making her willing to come to my bed was difficult. She'd tried everything to stay away, but in the end, I had won the battle. I guess she was really scared if she was even remotely willing to submit herself to me for any length of time, or maybe she was bored too.

"Two weeks," I said, then held up a finger as she began to rub her hands together as she thought of a counter offer. "It's my final offer."

"Fine," she said sourly as she forced herself to sit upright and put her hands on her armrests. She was really forcing herself to look and sound normal even if she were dying inside. "Do you mind if I add Empress Cunningham to our conversation?"

"Go ahead," I said, giving my permission. The image of Elsa shifted to allow another image to form, this one of an older brown haired woman I knew as Empress Rebecca Cunningham. Unlike most fleet personnel who lived fast and died young, Becky as she was called, was more of a matronly mother to her fleet and those who knew her.

"Good morning, Warlord Hodges," she said, acknowledging our transmission.

"Morning Becky," I told her, giving her a smile. "Elsa was just negotiating the safe passage of your armada through our space."

"Was she successful?" she asked me and I nodded.

"We have agreed to terms," I told her, even though Elsa blanched a bit at my blaise attitude about it. "Conditions are as follows. Before jumping to our system, you will power down and unchamber all weapons, including torpedo bays and lock them in place. Also, all hangar bays will be secured with closed doors and no strike craft are allowed to fly. Since I can't allow your armada free range, you will be escorted by my fleet to your destination. We detect any weapons signatures, you will not be warned to power it down. We're just going to open fire and obliterate your fleet."

"So noted," she said, not flinching. "I'm amassing ships for a jump to Greishon. We'll arrive there tomorrow morning."

"Be looking forward to it," I told her as she faded from view.

"Thank you," Elsa said, and I give her a wicked smile that made her face falter.

"It's going to be a long trip from Greishon to Solaria," I told her. "And longer still to a proper staging ground to retake Veuter."

"I suggested to her we meet at Orias," Elsa told me. "It's the most direct path, and builds a fleet between Riddle and me. My ships are already amassing there, and we intend to invade Veuter as soon as possible."

"That'll be about two days," I told her, looking at my map. "In all honesty, what gets me most is that Riddle himself is likely at Veuter."

"That was Rebecca's thoughts as well," Elsa told me. "We wanted to overwhelm his forces and try to destroy everything before he can escape."

I thought it over, my own hatred for the Horde's ways coloring my decisions. I wanted to obliterate that idiot's face for causing some of my worst nightmares. When I gathered my thoughts, there was only one thing on my mind.

"Think you two could use more ships?" I asked them. Elsa and Becky looked at each other, then nodded.

"Be glad to have them," Elsa finally said. "What's it going to cost me?"

"It's free and gratis if no ships escape our attack," I told her, and her eyebrows went up. "If any ships escape, any at all, I'll half your payment to me. Like I said, I want Riddle to burn that bad and he's likely leading this invasion himself to get to you. It'll be a pleasure to actually kill him."

"That's our thought," Becky said. "If we can get him, it can throw enough chaos into the Horde to stop them long enough we might be able to wipe them out."

"So this isn't just a smash and grab, it's a spear to the heart of the enemy," I said, realizing now what they were doing. "Why not bring more ships?"

"It's all we can spare," Becky told me. "I can't risk anymore."

"What about the fleets along our border?" I asked her. "If we send them together, we can't attack each other."

"To what end?" Elsa said, taking part in the conversation. "You're risking several of your fleets for me, what do you want out of it?"

"If we're going to take everything in one fell swoop, I want half the planets we take," Becky said quickly. Elsa looked to me, and the question was evident in her eyes.

"To take down his whole operation?" I said, clarifying my position. "Double the payment I'm taking for allowing the armada through."

I could see Elsa thinking it over, but the salvation of taking out the entire Horde in one shot was too much temptation. In the end, she hung her head and nodded.

"Double if you stay in to the end," she said making it a deal between us.

"So we have an alliance then?" Becky asked us, and I nodded. "I can have the majority of my fleet to Greishon in ten hours."

"Same here," I told her.


	30. Frozen Skyrim

Prologue

=Elsa's POV=

"Come on, slowpoke!" Anna cried as she drug me through the marketplace. It really wasn't safe to be out and about without the guards, but I had to figure with my icy powers I could handle almost anything that came out. Besides, people loved us.

"Slow down, Anna," I begged her, if for no other reason than she would quit trying to pull my arm out. She slowed down, just as we passed an alley, and a stinging sensation shot up my right arm.

"Ow!" I yelled, turning my head to see a red tailed dart in my shoulder. Pain radiated around it, and I yanked it out of my arm.

"Elsa?" Anna asked, coming to look at the dart.

"You like it?" a voice asked from the shadow, and I gasped when he stepped into the light.

"You!" I saw, trying to raise my arm, but it no longer worked. "What did you do?"

"Little something that cost me dearly to get," Prince Hans said, stepping out of the alley.

"Guards!" Anna shouted, getting the attention of a couple of wandering soldiers. They rushed over, and secured Prince Hans when Anna pointed at him. The pain in my arm kept intesifying, spreading down to my hand and across my back. "Elsa, what's wrong?"

"My-my arm," I stuttered, my whole shoulder was drooping now. "It hurts."

"Just a little something to get rid of you, witch," Prince Hans spat as he struggled with my soldiers. "It has no cure, so there's no way of stopping it."

"Anna," I said, taking one step toward my sister and nearly fell into her arms. I would have hit the ground if she hadn't held me up, the pain now radiating up and down my back, making my legs weak. I was scared that I was going to die, but there was nothing I could do but watch as my body went completely limp.

"Elsa!" Anna shrilled, her arms wrapped around me now the only thing keeping me up. "Guards!"

"That's for ruining my plans," Prince Hans said coldly.

My weight proved too much for Anna, who finally lowered me to the ground. The pain that was spreading through my body now filled it, and it was painful to breathe. "GUARDS!" Anna shrilled so loudly I was surprised every soldier in Arendelle wasn't heading for us. Behind the pain came numbness, and I could see the tears begin leaking from Anna's eyes as she realized I was dying. I couldn't speak though, it was too painful to even breathe. I could see the tears pour from Anna's eyes, but I couldn't feel them as they landed on my face.

"Don't leave me, sis," she begged, holding me close. I tried to smile, but I couldn't be sure my lips even moved. "I'm just the spare."

I wanted to tell my sister many things, but the numbness that filled me now prevented me from doing anything. The only thing I could even see was around the edges of Anna's face as she cradled me close. More of my soldiers did come running though, and Prince Hans was promptly subdued with multiple swords and spears pointed at him.

"Take him away," Anna said, her voice breaking. "Full security on him. Tell the executioner to sharpen his axe. If my sister dies, so does he."

"You'd go to war for that witch?!" Prince Hans yelled as he was dragged away to the dungeon.

"I will for my sister," Anna said so softly, I think I was the only one to hear her.

From where I was cradled against my sister, I could see my hand start to turn black. Anna closed her eyes, rocking me as she cried. Once my hand turned a full dark black, my hand crumbled as if it were sand. Looking at my feet, I watched as my shoes fell flat to the ground. I knew what it meant, but there was no stopping as slowly, my dress began to fall as well.

I looked up to take one last look at my sister, seeing the tears pouring down her cheeks. My world began to go black at the edges. Then with one final sob, I felt myself drop as the last of my body crumbled into nothing, and I fell into oblivion.


	31. Frozen Skyrim 02

Chapter 1

=Elsa's POV=

I awoke in a snow covered field, surrounded by tall fir as far as I could see and my dress was ripped in several places. I didn't find that surprising, really, just surprised I was alive after watching my body crumble to black dust. I stood, wondering where I was, when I heard a noise behind me. I spun, thinking it might've been a trick by Prince Hans to kill me and saw an elk walk into the clearing with me. It looked at me for a second, then bolted.

"Huh," I said, watching the fleeing animal. I'd never been that close to a live one before, and it left me stunned.

Taking in the clearing, I was also clueless as to where I was. Thankfully, I was immune to cold, so that wasn't a problem, but I was also alone, and that was a situation that demanded attention. Raising my hands, I attempted to make a new set of clothes to replace my damaged ones, but my power just fizzled. I tried again, but with similar results.

"No," I whined, looking at my hands. "This can't be happening!"

Extending my hands, I closed my eyes to concentrate, then tried to form a simple blouse. Again, I was met with failure. Sinking to my knees, I looked my hands as if they had betrayed me. Why did the magic that flowed so freely before, twice putting my sister's life in danger, fail me now?

Huffing, I got to my feet and looked around. I didn't know where I was, but I needed to find some help. Walking on, I stumbled a few times, my feet finding stones in the snow that caused me to stumble, then I found a road. Looking both ways, I headed down the hill and hoped to find some civilization, which meant help.

Some replacement clothes at least, I thought as my foot found a rock and I fell to the road, again ripping my dress around the knees. Picking myself up, I continued on my way, following the road as it went down a small hill. I could hear running water, and was able to make a bridge out through the trees and foliage.

"Great," I said to myself, as a bridge meant some sort of civilization. When I could make it out more clearly, I saw some soldiers start to come over it, stopping as there were enough to block the whole bridge.

I watched as the soldiers rode over the bridge, some twenty men and women in soldier garb. Two men were dressed different, one riding a horse. Their clothing was more primitive than the European standard I'd come to expect, almost medieval, and the two oddly dressed ones were sporting bear skins.

I had it figured that the two men in skins were officers in whatever army they served, with the one riding a horse more likely a general. The small group turned towards where I stood, then the lead man staggered as an arrow hit him.

"Fan out!" the man on the horse barked, and I darted into the bushes to hide. The soldiers on the road clashed with hidden soldiers from the bushes, but I stood stark still.

"Stormcloak supporter!" I heard yelled as a man charged me with a sword in hand. I dodged his first swing, then instinctively raised my hands. A blast of ice hit him full on, freezing him solid mid swing. The momentum from his swing knocked him over, and he shattered into several large pieces.

I was horrified at what I had done, when several more of his fellow soldiers charged me. I blasted another one with my ice, but he swung anyway. He knocked my arms to the side with the flat of his blade, and his bulk hit me like a wall and knocked me on my back. His fellow soldiers fell on me, grabbing my arms and pinning my wrists together. I struggled, trying to get free, and one of the soldiers stopped it by hitting me with the pommel of his sword, putting me back in oblivion.

=o=0=o=

When I awoke, I was in the back of a wagon and my hands were tied. In the wagon with me were one of the soldiers who had been attacked, the man from the horse who was now gagged as well, and another man in simple clothes. I looked down at my wrists, and felt like a common criminal. My hands were tied with rope.

"Good, you're awake," the soldier who sat beside me said. "I'm Ralof."

"Elsa," I said, hiding my royal title for the moment. "What was that about at the bridge?"

"Damn Imperial ambush," he said, spitting over the side of the wagon bed after saying it. "I should have known they would stoop so low."

"Imperial ambush?" I said, confused. "Why would they ambush you?"

"Because that's Ulfric Stormcloak," he said, nodding towards the gagged officer.

"Ulfric Stormcloak?" the other man said, frightened. "But you're the leader of the resistance! Gods, where are they taking us?"

"I don't know," Ralof said, almost wistful at his thoughts. "But Sovngarde awaits."

At that the other man began muttering a prayer, and the mood in the wagon grew sombre. I didn't need to fully understand their heathen gods to know that we were being taken to be executed. Even that thought made me feel sombre as we rolled along under the tall firs.

"So, where are we?" I asked after we rolled along.

"Almost to Helgen," Ralof told me. "I wonder if they still make that mead with Juniper berries in it?"

"If it was well liked, I'm sure they do," I said, following the standard rule of economics. I turned to see a large wall with an open gate we were about to pass through, like some old European cities that relied on walls for security.

"Funny, when I was a boy Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel safe," Ralof said forlornly as the small town came in sight. Looking ahead, I saw several more figures on horseback waiting outside the gate, and one of the soldiers with gold embossed armor stopped and talked to them as our process rumbled past. The others had golden skin, while two wore a greenish gold armor and a third wore a solid black robe. I wasn't sure, as it was hard to see over the side of the wagon, but I thought they were Elves.

"General Tullius, the military governor," Ralof said, identifying the man as I looked at him. "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him."

"Thalmor?" I asked him.

"Elven supremecists," he said, and I gave him a curious look. "They lead the Aldmeri Dominion and banned the practice of Talos worship," he explained to me.

"I don't guess it matters now," I said, torn between accepting my death and trying to get out of it. I was a queen, but I'd never heard of any of those names from my tutors growing up. And Elves? The stuff of myth and legend, my sister's boyfriend's 'family' not withstanding. But, who knows?

The wagon I was in, and the one in front of us followed a path through the town, finally stopping next to a large tower. The men and women in the wagon got to their feet, so I did as well, everyone stepping down. A man in a red leather soldiers uniform stood in front of us, holding a large book.

"Please step forward as I call your name," he said, then held up the book to read from it. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."

The gagged man stepped over towards the block, with Ralof dipping his head in respect. "It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric," he said. Jarl was a term I recognized as an old Nordic term for a king.

"Ralof of Riverwood," he called, and Ralof stepped off to be with the man he called king.

"Lokir of Rorikstead," he said, and the man who'd been with us bolted past the guards.

"You'll never catch me!" he taunted as he ran.

"Archers!" a woman in heavy armor called, and I watched as several men nocked their arrows to their bowstrings and fired at the man. All the archers hit their target and the man fell dead in the street. The woman in heavy armor then turned back to the rest of us. "Anybody else feel like running?"

Nobody did, and the man kept calling off the names. I stood there, wondering if they had mine somehow. When the last of the soldiers had been called, he looked at me. "Who are you?"

"Queen Elsa of Arendelle," I told him, using my royal title. "I demand you release me at once."

"Queen Elsa?" he said confused, then the woman strode up.

"What's going on here?"

"Captain, she's not on the list, and she claims to be royalty," he told her.

"Forget the list," the captain told him. "She goes to the block."

"By your order, captain," he said, then swallowed before turning back to face me. He clearly didn't like his orders, but was disciplined enough to follow them anyway. I found myself liking him, would even employ him in my own army if I were back in Arendelle. "I'm sorry," was all he could say before I held up my hands.

"I understand," I told him, hanging my head. I guess Prince Hans was about to get his wish. I was going to die. Funny, I couldn't find any tears for myself as I turned and joined the rest of the soldiers. My only concern was that Anna, the sister I spent my childhood locked in my room to protect, would never know my fate.

"Let's get this over with!" General Tullius yelled after I joined the group. "Read them their last rites!"

A woman in a brown robe with a yellow wrap around her head stepped forward, then raised her hands. "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon..."

"Oh for the love of Talos," one soldier shouted back at her, interrupting her recitation. "Let's get this over with!" The soldier in question then marched forward, and knelt with his neck on the block. "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"

The Executioner didn't waste any time, and before I could blink, brought the heavy axe down and lopped his head off. Ralof, who was standing nearby, muttered a eulogy for his friend, but I couldn't hear it. The captain kicked the now dead body aside then looked at me with hatred.

"Next, Elsa of Arendelle," she called, leaving off my royal title. I don't guess it mattered anymore, as I was about to die, but something rankled me about leaving off my royal title.

"It's Queen Elsa," I told her, then a loud animal seemed to roar. It's roar shook everyone around me, making everyone nervous and drawing their weapons from their belts.

"I said, next prisoner," she commanded, and the man with the book took my elbow.

"Nice and easy, now," he said in a soft tone. He pushed me forward, then turned me to face the block.

"Kneel down," the captain commanded, but I shook my head as I refused to talk for fear of my next words being nothing but a wail. I wanted to go out with some dignity befitting my royal title.

"I said kneel," the captain commanded, and then hit the back of my knees with her sword. I fell and she forced me over by placing her boot on my back. My small neck seemed big on the block, and I could see the Executioner begin to raise his axe as that animal roared again.

"It's in the clouds!" I heard, but my eyes were on that axe. It meant my death.

"Archers, what do you see?" I heard General Tullius yell, just as that axe was raised fully over my neck.

What happened next was beyond anything I had even imagined. A large black dragon landed on top of the tower with an earth-shaking thud, knocking my would be killer off balance. He never even acknowledged the dragon, just steadied himself and again raised his axe, even as orders were shouted for battlemages to take the field. I would've gotten up myself to run for safety but the captain still had her heavy boot on my back as she assumed an aggressive stance towards the dragon.

The axe went up again, but just as the executioner started up, the dragon seemed to shout pure thunder that knocked everyone to the ground. Since I was already on the ground I managed to get my feet, then Ralof was grabbing my arm. "Come on, kindred," he was yelling over the roar of the Hell around us. Somehow, we were now in a meteor shower, and it was ripping the town apart. "The Gods won't give us another chance!"

I let him pull me along into a nearby tower, seeing more of the Stormcloak soldiers milling around in its lowest level. They were all free, and Ulfric had the gag off. Two soldiers shouldered the door closed, locking the chaos outside.

"Jarl Ulfric!" one of the soldiers asked, very clearly in a state of panic. He I would put on the front line of a battle as cannon fodder. "Can the legends be true?"

"Legends don't burn down villages," Ulfric calmly told the man, reminding me of a battle-tested general. He'd be the calm one walking out of a burning castle, telling his panicking men to grab what was useful and not what was merely valuable. Father was a lot like him, and I found myself respecting him.

"We need to find another way out," Ralof said, using a borrowed dagger to cut my bindings before giving the dagger back to its owner. When he turned back to me, he looked up at the tower and its winding staircase and smiled. "I wonder if there's a roof access?"

"One way to find out," I said, then started up the steps, Ralof right behind me. We no more than got to the next landing, where several barrels had been stacked, when the wall fell in. Another Stormcloak soldier had been rummaging through the barrels, and he stared slackjawed at the black dragon's head that had caused the hole. The dragon opened its maw, and let loose a roaring jet of flame that left nothing recognizable behind before flying off again.

"Look there!" Ralof said, going to the hole in the tower. "Jump through to the roof, we'll be right behind you!"

"Alright," I said, then jumped to the roof. The moment my soft shoes connected with its thatch roof, it gave under me and dumped me onto the attic floor. I looked back to Ralof, seeing the concern in his eyes at the weakness of the roof, when the building shook and fire and hay shot everywhere. I looked back to the other end to see it was mostly gone.

"Go!" Ralof yelled over me, and I ran to the hole. Lacking a ladder, I put my hands out, and concentrated hard, but I couldn't make an ice staircase form. Resigning myself that I was no longer able to perform magic, I sat on the edge of the hole, and eased myself down, before my weight pulled me the rest of the way down to the floor. I wandered to the edge of the house, but there weren't any Stormcloaks around, just Imperial soldiers.

"Haming!" an Imperial soldier shouted at a young kid. "Get over here!"

From the safety of the house, I watched the dragon land in front of the group just as the boy reached the soldiers, and they all ducked behind some rubble to escape the deadly flame. When the dragon let up and took back to the sky, I darted past the cowering Imperial soldiers and into the flames. The dragon roared overhead, and I heard a guard yell, "Stay close to the wall!"

I followed his advice, instinctively putting my hands out to let my ice out when I came out in a fiery blaze. I was even more amazed when frost poured from my hands, coating the wood in a layer of frost. Once I had the fires out, I ran through, being joined now by several Imperials carrying bows. They didn't even acknowledge me as they run on, nocking their bows and shooting at the dragon overhead.

"Hey, over here!" I heard Ralof call as I entered a clearing. I didn't see any other Stormcloaks nearby, but followed him into a door in the stone keep. He secured the door with a heavy looking beam, then we sagged against it. My eyes fell on another soldier against the far wall, and he ran over to her. I followed, slowly, seeing that she had had an arrow hit her in the back, likely as she was entering the keep.

"I'll see you in Sovngarde, sister," he said, after kneeling at her side and checking her.

"That thing was a dragon, no doubt about it," he said as he stood up. "Just like the children's stories and the legends. A harbinger of the end times."

"What do we do?" I asked him, looking hurriedly around the room.

"First, help me get Igna's armor off," he said, as he began to unbuckle the armor. "You can put it on. It's better than those simple rags you're wearing."

"But," I began to argue as he lifted the cloth-like tunic off to reveal the chainmail underneath. He pulled that off as well showing the simple clothing she wore, as he handed the chainmail to me.

"Slip that on," he said as I took the heavy chainmail. Noting that the clothes Igna wore under her armor, I just slipped it over my blouse, feeling for the first time the crushing weight that would protect me from a sword swing.

When I looked back down to Ralof, he was tugging the greaves off Igna as well, having already removed her boots. He then handed me her greaves, and I had a moment of panic. I couldn't very well tug off my dress in front of him, but I needed to get the armor on in case I needed it to protect me from a sword swing which was likely as I was now an escaping felon. I settled for lifting my dress a bit, then slipping my legs into the greaves and pulling them up around my waist.

"Here, allow me," he said, after I had buckled the greaves in place. I watched as Ralof took his axe in hand and used it to cut my dress from my bodice, giving me freedom to move. All that were left now were the heavy boots, which I slipped on after undoing each shoe but leaving my stockings in place.

"You almost look like a warrior now," he told me as I took in the heavy armor. It was heavy to me, at least, but it was getting lighter as I wore it. When Ralof handed me the war axe, I knew taking it was changing my life, but I accepted it without comment. I had to set aside my life as a queen and become the desperado if I ever wanted to live to see Anna again.

"Where to next?" I told him, eyeing the two doors the room had. The one on our right was more like a jail cell's door with bars that were easy to see through, while the one on our left was a heavy wooden door I'd expect in a castle for security and privacy.

"That way leads back to the barracks, I know," Ralof told me. "We're likely to find more Imperials that way, and I don't fancy running into more of them."

"Then we'll head that way," I said, pointing to the other door. Ralof just nodded as we headed over to the door, but it was locked with some sort of heavy lock that didn't give when we tried the latch.

"No going this way without the key," Ralof told me as I hefted the axe. I began to wonder if we could use our war axes to cut through when I heard voices from the other door.

"Imperials?" I asked him and he nodded.

"Let's set up an ambush," he said, running silently for the other door. I moved as fast as I could, not used to running without a dress and the ability to stretch my legs without worrying about tripping over the hem of said dress was freeing.

We took posts beside the other door, with Ralof squatting behind a large piece of rock that had fallen from higher up the wall near the ceiling with the recent attack while I pressed in tight in a recess on the other side. The voices came closer, and soon we could make out what they were saying.

"But that thing is killing everyone out there!" a male voice argued.

"Which is why we're going to take the back way out through the dungeons," a female voice said which I placed as belong to the female captain who had held me down for execution.

"Does it go all the way through?" another voice said as I heard a key rattle in the lock.

"It does," she said, and I shifted my fingers on the war axe, an emotion filling me that I hadn't felt since I had exiled myself to the top of North Mountain. Fury. I hated her for holding me down like a common criminal and I suddenly wished her dead.

One of the male guards was the first through, holding a sword in his hand and Ralof motioned me to wait. When the captain stepped through carrying a sword and shield with the other sword wielding guard right behind her, Ralof charged around the rock to attack the lead guard. I took that as my cue and charged the captain, who turned her back to me as she squared off against Ralof.

My charge was silent, and with both hands, brought the war axe down onto her unprotected neck. My swing missed though, probably from the unfamiliarity with the use of a war axe, but the block staggered the large and heavily armored woman and she dropped her sword. She spun on me, raising her shield as I swung again. My second blow caught the shield just under the lip, opening her defense as she lost her grip on the shield and it flew against the wall.

With a snarl she charged me, trying to pin me to the floor. I put a hand out, trying to force my ice to flow and was surprised when I coated her face with a coating of frost. The captain must've been surprised as well, because she tripped and fell at my feet, and seeing my opening brought the war axe down on her skull, embedding it deep enough for it to stay there.

"You handled her well," Ralof said, as he yanked his war axe out of the last guard's chest.

"I'm not accustomed to a war axe," I told him, as I moved to pick up the captain's sword and shield and take the sword's scabbard and belt from the captain's body. "These are more my style."

"To each his own," he said as he grabbed the keyring from the first guard's dead hand. With keys in hand, Ralof soon had the door open and we went down into the dungeon, a belt now around my waist. With a roar overhead, the dragon caused the roof to fall in ahead of us, and Ralof motioned to a nearby door. "Let's see where it takes us."

"I'll follow your lead," I said, following Ralof through the door.

"Looks like a storeroom," he said as we went through the door. Soon though, a pair of Imperial soldier came into view as the rifled through a barrel.

"Get the Stormcloaks!" another yelled, reaching for the large sword on his back. I didn't even give him a chance to draw as I rushed him and buried my sword in his gut with a piercing thrust, making the man belch blood as he tried to put his hand on my sword to steady the deadly instrument. I didn't let him though, and wrenched the sword free so his blood would flow free. Once I had, the man fell to the floor, his bloody mouth moving silently as he tried to form words.

"You definitely do fast work," Ralof said as his own fell to the floor, a wicked gash across his throat. "Search these barrels for any potions."

"Potions?" I asked him, thinking it was almost preposterous.

"Lots of folks like to store a healing potion or two back for a rainy day," he said, and I shrugged. I wasn't one to cast stones with my ice powers, so I searched the barrel of straw and came up with two small pale pink vials with a cork stopper.

"These work?" I asked him and he nodded.

"Healing potions as well," he said, moving closer.

"How can you tell?" I asked him.

"It's the pink color and bottle type," he said, as I held it up to the torchlight for a better look. "But it's also written on the label," he said, turning it to show a label on the other side.

"That's helpful," I told him, even as I wondered if the potions did indeed work as I stuffed them in my belt.

"Well, let's get out of here before more Imperials show up," he said, heading for a door on the far wall.

I followed behind him, snagging another bottle and tucking all three into my belt. We went down some stairs after going through another door, and then happened upon some kind of holding room just as streaks of lighting played over another female Stormcloak.

"Gods!" Ralof said, shocked at what he saw, as the woman knelt under the blast of lightning. "It's a torture room!"

I charged down the last few steps, stepping between the dying woman and the man who was throwing the lightning bolts at her just as the bolts ended. The man in question looked suddenly unsure, and I charged him with a high chop. He caught it on his raised gauntlet, then pulled a knife from his belt to attack me with. I blocked his knife with my shield, then, after taking a step back, charged back in with the tip of my sword to his chest.

He tried to dodge by turning aside, an attempt to raise his knife against me already forming in my mind. My mind found an immediate counter, and taking another step in my charge, knocked him off his balance to fall to the floor, the knife clattering across the stone floor. I didn't even have to kill him, as soon a war axe fell on my downed victim's throat, killing him.

A groan behind me made me turn to find the woman I had saved laid out on her back. Dropping to a knee beside her, I took a vial of the pink liquid and popped the top and poured it down her throat. The effect was immediate, she went from looking pale to pink, quit groaning and started to get up.

"They work fast," I said, tossing the empty vial into a corner.

"Aye," Ralof said as he helped the woman to her feet. "Anyone seen Ulfric?"

"He went on ahead of us," one of the men said.

"Then we chase after him," Ralof said. "With me!"

I found myself respecting the take charge leadership of Ralof as he led us deeper into the cave network. As we came out on another Imperial patrol, we charged them. Archers on the far ledge pelted us with arrows, killing the one whose life I had helped save earlier with an arrow to the chest. The others fanned out, engaging the Imperial soldiers where they could so I charged past to the archers where my shield made me better suited to get close.

My shield up, I managed to get close even as they poured arrows onto my shield.


End file.
